Dark Temptations
by Lythtis
Summary: Draco has just started losing his senses for emotions and color, his dark side threatening to take over. The problem is, Harry is the only one who can save him now. Update Ch.14!
1. Game Start

Dark Temptations  
  
A/N: Fulfilling my promise of rewriting this chapter. Enjoy!  
  
Summary: Draco has just started losing his natural senses for emotions and colors, with his dark side threatening to take over. The problem is, the only one who can save him now is Harry  
  
Disclaimer: No one in this story belongs to me, and I hope you have understanding. . . this is harder than it looks!  
  
A/N: Sorry if the beginning is a little slow, but it'll get better.  
  
~+~  
  
Chapter 1-Game Start  
  
~+~  
  
Draco had just turned seventeen, and still alone. His family had worried because of him losing his senses for feeling so soon, that all he knew was hunger. He had been stalking the hallways for over an hour, trying to rid all of the people who adored him for his looks, his power and his money. Roaming, to also search for his other half, the person that could save him from himself. His blood hummed everytime he passed another person, humming from the need to feed on something, someone.  
  
Because of his dark-side, this was the other reason why the Malfoys were so valuable to Voldemort, because they were part of the last 'Ancients', as they would call it. And he needed his other side desperately, afraid that he wouldn't be able to go on and search for the dawning sun, not wanting to be a mindless, bloodthirsty killer. This was the only way he could die, because his other half was partially siren, the part that allowed him to walk among them during the day. He was also walking, because he knew his other half was there somewhere, the reason he hadn't lost all of his senses.  
  
Still lost in thought, he never noticed the other boy running in his direction, neither having paid much attention to each other until it was too late.  
  
"Aagh!"  
  
"Ouch!"  
  
Draco had just walked straight into Harry Potter, the person he loathed the most. As he rose and finished dusting off his clothes, he stared annoyed at the other boy, who looked him directly in the eyes. 'Green eyes,' Draco thought to himself, marveling at the way they sparkled. So pure and green.  
  
"Hello, Malfoy," Harry greeted Draco, glaring at him.  
  
"Watch where you're going next time, Potter," Draco had intended to sound smug, but the words came out in an affectionate purr, which stunned Harry. Gazing down at him, Draco noticed the way Harry was still on the floor, raised up barely on his elbows. How he would have loved to just push the other boy back down on his back, pinned to the ground and-NO! He mustn't think that way. But the beast inside him responded differently.  
  
"Draco?" Harry asked in a slightly worried tone. He had noticed the way the other boy had been looking at him, still not quite understanding what was going on. As he rose to his feet and they both looked each other directly in the eyes, this was also the first time they had noticed that Draco was slightly taller than Harry was. But something in his eyes made Harry continue to stare, something hypnotic.  
  
Draco was the one to break the contact and gave Harry his books, pushing him away and telling him to go to class. Then he ran off, leaving a confused Harry behind, who then remembered that he had to go to the library.  
  
~+~  
  
"Harry, there you are!" Hermione called from a table near the back of the library. He quickly walked over to them and told them how he had ran into Draco and what had happened.  
  
"Did the slimy little git do anything to you?" Ron demanded furiously, angry that he hadn't been around to have a reason to punch Draco in the face.  
  
"He just handed me my books and told me to go on with my business," Harry said, thinking back, still not understanding what had taken place there.  
  
"Maybe he's decided to be nice for a change," Hermione suggested.  
  
"Sure Hermes, and Snape decided to be nice to Gryffindors and give us all A's, not to mention 100 house points for even attending his class," he said, rolling his eyes upwards. "Sometimes you can be really daft, you know."  
  
"Don't call me Hermes!" she said, eyeing him in an annoyed expression. Harry had known that they liked each other, but he never could figure out why they were so stubborn on 'connecting'.  
  
"You two really ought to get to know each other," he told them honestly. He still worried that they would kill one another before their true feelings were said.  
  
"Harry!" they both said in unison, slightly blushing as well.  
  
"It's true," he muttered to no one in particular. 'Even after 7 years, they still haven't learned,' he thought in amusement. "Hi Harry!" said Neville, who looked like he had been running from a demon- possessed Tiger. He sat down heavily on the chair next to Harry, who gratefully took the glass of water from Hermione who'd conjured it up.  
  
"What happened?" Ron asked, after Neville had gulped all of it down in one swallow.  
  
"Been running," he said breathlessly.  
  
"Obviously, but from what?" Hermione pressed on.  
  
"Crabbe and Bullstrode."  
  
"For what?" all three asked in disbelief.  
  
"I can't say yet," he told them, looking around as if his grandmother would show up out of nowhere. "They were planning something for the dance, you know, to make it go wrong or something," he started explaining. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but then Millicent saw me and they both started going after me."  
  
"What dance, Neville?" Ron asked, not having a clue of what was going on.  
  
"You know, for the- oops."  
  
"For what?" Hermione asked, clearly excited to know something no one else knew.  
  
"Can't say," Neville said in a rush, jumping out of his seat and started backing away. "Have to go find Trevor. Bye." And with that he stormed out of the library, with Madame Pince fuming behind him, muttering about students with no manners.  
  
"Do you guys have any idea what he was talking about?" Harry asked after a while.  
  
"'fraid not," Ron said thoughtfully.  
  
"Whatever the case," Hermione interrupted into both their thoughts, "we now have to charter the different constellations and how they will progress in a month."  
  
"Of course," Ron said merrily, "anything to keep you off of my back and out of my business."  
  
"I am your business," Hermione smiled sweetly at him.  
  
"Oh crap."  
  
~+~  
  
Draco had been running ever since he met up with Harry back in the hall, running to get away and to fight the urge. It was impossible, he thought to himself. Yet, it all made perfect sense. He had always been cold and emotionless throughout the holiday away from school, now back, he always felt that familiar feeling of loathing towards the other boy. But it was always so familiar, that Draco had completely overseen it as an emotion at all. But also now, where they had just had physical contact since his conditions had started, all the colors flooded back into him. And the first he had seen were those brilliant green eyes. 'But he's a guy,' he muttered to himself, 'he can't help nor continue on the bloodline.' Or could he?  
  
Draco was doing his best to try and justify the fact that Harry couldn't be the one he'd searched for, but always when he thought of him, he also now understood why the beast within him stirred. What he had mistaken for resentment had actually been passion, passion for the one he had disliked for now seven years, 'their last year together,' he thought in amazement. Amazement that they'd let each other live so long, amazement that he'd never noticed this before, just amazement. When he finally stopped running, he noticed he was at the edge of the forbidden forest, and slowly started making his way back, hunger craving him. "He's not even one of us," Draco said aloud to no one in particular. 'And neither was your mother,' said a little cruel voice within his head.  
  
Though it seemed like he was an only child, he was actually the youngest of four, the oldest one had seeked the sun about a half century before he was born. 'Luther,' he thought, his oldest brother who he had never met, whose room he had now, whose looks. He had only been past half a millennia when he knew that the inner darkness would soon consume him, and since it was before Voldemort's time as well, he didn't want to go and hunt down kindred for the fun of blood spill. Though in line of the Dubrinsky, it always came past two hundred years before they began to lose sense for anything except the need to protect that which was alive and kill the predator. The nosferatu.  
  
But for that reason, they were the outcasts, who might as well have been the Undead.  
  
Finding his way back to the castle, Draco decided he had better go find Harry to tell him, before both ended up in utter loneliness.  
  
~+~  
  
Harry had been making his way back to the common room, taking the shortest way, which was also the creepiest and darkest way throughout the whole school, when he felt a cold and strong hand stopping him and grabbing onto his shoulder.  
  
"AAIGH-" his scream had been cut short by a hand that covered his mouth and held him close to another body.  
  
"Shh, Potter, it's just me," came an urgent whisper from behind him.  
  
'Malfoy?!' Harry thought in panic. 'What was he doing here?'  
  
"I'll let you go," he breathed into Harry's ear, which made him shiver, "but only if you promise not to yell out."  
  
Harry nodded his head, his heart beating faster with each fleeting second.  
  
'Ah, how nervous he is,' Malfoy thought in amusement, feeling Harry's heartbeat compared to his own, probing his thoughts and seeing the sudden fear and panic. He didn't want to scare the other boy away.  
  
He slowly let go of Harry, who quickly rushed out of his reach and turned to look at the silver-haired boy that stood in the full glow of the moon light, his eyes profoundly sparkling.  
  
'How pretty,' Harry thought, then shook his head vigorously to get rid of the thought of his enemy like that. 'Disgusting! Ugh!'  
  
"We need to talk," Draco inquired after a moment of amused silence. Harry just looked at him, into those mesmerizing eyes that wouldn't let go of him. "You need to know some things Harry."  
  
This was the first time Draco had used his first name, the very shock of it brought Harry back into his senses, not understanding what had happened. "I don't understand," he said, turning over what Draco had just told him. He wanted to get away from there, run into the nearest cover and hide like a little child.  
  
Draco who read that Harry wanted to bolt moved in one graceful sweep that startled Harry even more and put his arm around Harry's slim waist. His inner beast was raging for release to be free.  
  
"Draco, what-" Harry was once again cut off from his line of sentence when Draco gently laid a finger across Harry's lips to silence him. He had such soft lips, Draco thought, wanting to press his against them. "I have to tell you a secret Harry," Draco whispered in a deep voice, causing Harry to shiver again. "Do you know anything about Carpathians?" he asked.  
  
He shook his head, becoming more nervous at how the other boy was touching him, holding him close. Harry was in a serious state of Panic, wishing that someone would tell him what was going on. Why was he being questioned about what he only understood to be mountains?  
  
"You do know about Vampires?" Draco stated, raising his eyebrows as if to challenge the boy.  
  
"Yes," Harry answered in a tiny voice. 'Someone help me!' he thought, his whole mind a frenzy.  
  
Draco noticed how afraid he was and let him go, but still not backing up, making Harry press against the wall. "Carpathians are what become Vampires," Draco began explaining in a calm, soothing voice. "A Carpathian cannot exist without his other half, and so he has two options."  
  
"W-what are those?" Harry barely could say the words, his mouth was so dry.  
  
Draco wanted to calm Harry's nerves, wanted to stroke his forehead in a relaxing motion so the other boy could be at ease.  
  
"He can either seek the sun, which of course would end his life," Draco stated, watching Harry's reaction of slight shock, "or he becomes a vampire, though not like the Dracula muggles think of."  
  
Harry had dared to swallow, still scared at how gentle this other boy was being, 'the one that he couldn't stand the most', he thought with a shiver going down his back. "What kind of a vampire?" he asked, though doubting he really wanted to find out, still trying to back up further.  
  
Draco looked him directly in the eyes, and Harry let out a yelp when he saw a light flicker within his silver ones. "The blood-thirsty murderous type," Draco whispered to him, causing Harry to break out in a sweat.  
  
'This is insane,' Harry thought, looking around as if in hope anybody could come help him, even Peeves. 'Why do these things happen to me?' But he couldn't help but gaze into Draco's flashing eyes, eyes that seemed to look deep into his mind, his heart, his soul. "Why are you telling me all this?" Harry asked, hoping this would end their meeting.  
  
"Because you need to know," Draco said, slowly coming closer. He heard how fast Harry's heart was beating, how his breathing came swifter. "You need to know before-"  
  
"Before what?" Harry regretted asking as he saw the hunger and urgency rise in Draco's silver eyes. He regretted having even made an acquaintance with him. 'Please god,' he begged, 'please help me.'  
  
Draco was losing control over what raged within him, howled in fury at being held down to what he had longed for. He couldn't bare it any more. Draco moved swiftly, but gently, pressing Harry's body harder against the wall as he stole away Harry's first kiss. Harry's mind had gone blank in that moment, as soon as he felt Draco's warm lips against his own. Not the kind on the cheek that Mrs. Weasley occasionally planted there, not the motherly kind, but the kind of a lover, of someone who would only and always care for him. He didn't understand the intensity of what was passing between them, only that something deep inside him felt whole, completed. His knees started getting weak, the only thing holding him up was Draco's muscular body next to his.  
  
'Draco's body. . . ' Harry was trying to push away from the boy, only to receive a growl which came deep from Draco's throat, like a dog warning an intruder away.  
  
Draco sensed that he had lost control, quickly regaining his composure, pulling away and letting Harry slide down the wall as he stood up straight again. "I have told you," Draco said, slightly out of breath himself, but not showing the least bit of waver in his attitude. "I have told, explained to you what is happening."  
  
Harry who was sitting on the floor trembling didn't even dare to look up into that piercing, craving gaze. "You-haven't told me anything about- what's happening," was all he was able to utter under the circumstances.  
  
"Haven't you figured it out yet, Harry?" Draco asked in a slightly amused tone of voice, stepping closer yet again, "I'm carpathian."  
  
Though it didn't seem possible, Harry paled even more at the thought. "Then why can you walk in the sun?" he asked after a moment of silence, trying to recollect his thoughts yet again.  
  
"I am also part siren, from my mother's side," he whispered into Harry's ear as he bent down next to him, leaning closer as if to take Harry's lips again. "That is the only thing that keeps me alive within the strongest moments of the sun, that's why I'm not playing Quidditch that often."  
  
"Please," Harry begged, not able to take any more, "what does any of this have to do with me?"  
  
"Very simple," Draco came closer to Harry's ear, "you are my other half." He heard as Harry took a quick breath, his heartbeat going over time. "Calm down," he said, now nearly cheek-to-cheek, "I wouldn't harm you if that's what you're afraid of."  
  
Those words, though soothing, didn't reassure Harry in the least. Quite on the contrary, he had a Vampire in love with him, and he's saying that's quite all right after explaining he could go 'Jack the Ripper' on him any day. "Can I please go now?" Harry was on the brink of tears now, wishing he could be in someone else's position.  
  
Draco had a slightly pained look on his face at these words, hurt that Harry wanted nothing more than to get away from him. "Yes," he said after a moment of looking into the other boys' face longer, those green jewels refusing to look at him. Harry was walking past him to get his books and to go to Gryffindor tower, when Draco grabbed him by the arm. He pulled him back and skillfully wrapped his arm about his waist again, holding his chin forcing Harry to look him into the eyes and whispered, "Just remember this; though you may not accept this as of yet, don't ever think that anyone else will be able to do what I can do for you." That in itself was threat and warning.  
  
Harry, who could do nothing more but stand there and stare at him in shock and fear, was weak in the knees again when Draco ran his tongue along Harry's bottom lip, causing the boy to slightly move closer in the passion and gentleness of the touch. Draco smiled, pleased with himself as he watched Harry's retreating back run towards his shelter.  
  
Harry now knew what he was up against, and hadn't the slightest clue what would happen if Draco did succeed in what he said. He decided to find out as much as possible about carpathians tomorrow with Hermione's help. He was slightly out of breath when he finally made it to the fat lady's picture, who looked worried when she saw how pale and sweaty he was. Harry assured her it was nothing and ran into his room, threw his books into the chest, nearly ripped his clothes as he was doing his best to get them off, and huddled in bed in nothing more than his boxers. He couldn't sleep, though, not with the incident that happened just moments before still vivid in his mind. But a simple command let him drift off without further troubles, when he fell into a dreamless sleep.  
  
Draco was sitting on his bed, sensed that Harry was having trouble sleeping and sent his thought out to him, letting him rest without further problems. "And now, my dear Harry," he whispered to himself with a grin across his face, "let our little game begin."  
  
~+~  
  
A/N: I seriously wrote this? o_O  
  
OMG, what happened? I remember slightly what I started with, but jeez, this is the first time I read through this. I am a genuine pervert and didn't even know it! I don't want to re-write anymore chapters! Who knows what else came from my warped little mind there! Good grief, someone slap me! *_*  
  
And you guys like it!! *shivers* I'm never reading my own work ever again!! It's up to BETA from now on! Eugh!  
  
~Lythtis 


	2. Mind Games

Dark Temptations  
  
A/N: I don't feel like doing Homework, so that's why I'm rewriting these chapters at the moment. I hate school, too much stress, that's for sure. Whatever, enjoy.  
  
Disclaimer: If anything did belong to me, then I would be a bloody-rich 14- year old lass, still not knowing what will happen in her continued life.  
  
~+~  
  
Chapter 2-Mind Games  
  
~+~  
  
Harry had been awakened by the sunlight streaming in through the windows, bending in his beds' direction. Aroused by the sudden change of his vision from darkness to a hollow red, he opened his eyes to take in the blurry scenery, searching for his glasses that had fallen and shattered during his frenzy in getting his clothes off the previous night. 'Had it been a dream?' he questioned himself as he felt the shards under his left palm, slightly pushing in against his skin.  
  
'Did I dream the whole thing with Draco liking me?'  
  
He was hoping that it had all very much been a dream, but something inside him felt slightly disappointed if it had, something he had never noticed before. But he had other worries on his mind at the moment, pushing the thought away. Because he was one of the earliest to rise, he couldn't ask any of the boys' sharing his dormitory to maybe help him with his eye- problem. Crawling out of bed and standing slightly off balance, he started making his way towards his chest to get out his wand. With his hands held up somewhat just in case he fell or walked into a wall, he felt as his hands went into a soft material against a hard-something. 'A cloak?' he wondered, 'someone is standing in front of me?'  
  
Having the bad eyesight as he did, he couldn't tell that it had been Draco he had bumped into again. Harry was also lucky that he didn't see the urgency arouse in Draco's silver gaze, which normally stayed emotionless.  
  
The blond was having the hardest time to keep his inner beast under control, fighting against himself to not take the raven-haired boy on his bed and taking him into full possession. Instead, he took Harry's right palm and raised it to his lips, startling the other boy as he felt teeth graze against the tips of his fingers, making his insides squirm with what felt like delight but was trying to make it disgust.  
  
"Who-who's there?" he asked in a slightly high-pitched voice from his usual low tone. The answer he received was that he was pulled against the other person, who obviously was a guy, and felt someone staring at him intently, 'someone with silver views,' he finally noted. He took in a quick breath as realization tumbled in on him. Harry was bent on shouting out Draco's name, until he felt his air being taken in by another, his lips being covered by the boy he was supposed to hate.  
  
He could do nothing but try and push the other boy away, knowing Draco was much stronger than he. But he couldn't keep his mouth closed enough for Draco not to gain access to his inner warmth, skimming over his teeth and causing Harry to quiver like a willow in the wind.  
  
When he was finally released, Draco still had his arm around him, still holding a blushing Harry close to him as if protecting him from something, or someone. "What do you want?" Harry asked him in a barely managed whisper, still dazed from the sudden impulse of the other boy's intense longing.  
  
What Harry had breathed against Draco's chest was enough for him to nearly howl and wake up the rest of the school, howl to let the creatures in the woods know how happy and yet how sad he was. "I came to give you these," he purred into Harry's ear, causing the other boy's cheeks to tinge with an even brighter rose color. He brought Harry over to sit on his bed, held him firmly by the chin and told Harry to trust him for just this moment, keeping his voice low enough so as not to wake the others. Harry nodded slightly, not having much room to turn his head either way because of Dracos' grasp on him. He cried out slightly when he felt his eye being prodded open and quickly squinted his eyes closed when he felt something wet go into his left one. But when he opened them again, he could see somewhat clearer, not understanding until Draco held up a contact lens.  
  
'So that's why he's here,' Harry thought, slightly ashamed at himself for wanting to have ratted him out. He knew exactly what the others thought of Draco, and just calling out his name and they would have been on his back like a pack of dogs. 'Blood-thirsty dogs,' the thought made him shudder in revulsion.  
  
When both of the contacts had been put in his eyes, Harry blinked to get used to the extra wet feeling in his eyes and finally was able to look Draco in the eyes again.  
  
'How beautifully his eyes sparkle,' Draco thought in pure adoration. 'As if spring itself was kept within him.' He brushed his hand against Harry's cheek, having sensed that Harry hadn't called out his name yet, because he did care. But the touch made him move his head away in shock, still not used to being treated in such a manner. 'Amazing how innocent he still is,' he still marveled at him, thinking about how far from even partially virgin he was. "I hope these will help you better," Draco told him before he brushed his lips against Harry's cheek and departed, afraid that he may no longer have hold over what was inside him, what called out to Harry's soul.  
  
Harry sat on his bed and watched as Draco descended the stairs, and just in time because Ron was starting to wake up and gazed around, greeting Harry with, "Morning mate. So, what's for breakfast?"  
  
~+~  
  
When they had walked into the Great Hall to join the other Gryffindors for breakfast, Harry could do all except keep his attention on Collin as he was describing how his dad had been out fishing and was nearly swallowed by a Hydra.  
  
"Amazing that they even exist," Seamus muttered to them, finding the story a little too extravagant to believe.  
  
"But he even got pictures of it," Collins younger brother chimed in, "and he could swear that the thing was bigger than 1000 meters!" at this he was gesturing his hands apart towards the ceiling and the floor.  
  
"So when do we get to see this so-called 'evidence' of yours, ey?" Ron asked, his eyebrows raised in doubt and his eyes flashing with suppressed mirth.  
  
Harry's attention had been directed in towards the Slytherin table for most of what he had been listening to. He was still trying to figure out how Draco had gotten into Gryffindor tower without anyone having noticed, 'And why does it always have to be me?' he thought in anguish. 'Because you're the one that is so much more than any of these others,' answered an annoying little voice in the back of his head, a voice that sounded like a twisted and deranged him.  
  
"And BOOM-" Harry was startled out of his thoughts, "there came the waves crashing in on 'em," Collin finished his story with a satisfied smile on his face.  
  
Hermione had been reading her book, for the first time a muggle one called 'Dark Prince' by Christine Feehan. "What are you reading, Hermes?"  
  
"Don't call me 'Hermes,'" she muttered absently, all her focus intensed upon that single page. Now the other side.  
  
"Hermione," Ron continued, not having noticed the hint to back off, "one of these days you're going to pick up a book, start reading it and it will cause you to go blind."  
  
"And you will be there and prevent me, no, protect me from letting it get that far," she countered, still reading on in her book.  
  
"Touché," Dean smiled at Ron, who's ears had turned a noble scarlet and looked the other way.  
  
Looking for another distraction, he started intruding on Harry's thoughts. "So why are you in such a dispirited mood, Harry?"  
  
Harry who had continued his thoughts of trying to sort this business out, stared up from his breakfast and into his friends brown eyes, not saying a word nor changing expression.  
  
"Don't tell me you've got a heart-ache?" Ron said in disbelief. Harry had never been in a relationship, and already he had his heart broken. He remembered his previous crush on Cho, but that he should regret on it?  
  
Harry just shook his head and continued his staring, then he finally remembered. Today they didn't have classes, so he could ask Hermione to help him in the library. His mood highly increased at the thought of having a better understanding about what was happening, though he should have regretted what he did next. "Hermione!"  
  
"What?" she asked in a clearly annoyed tone.  
  
Putting his hands over her page so she was forced to look up, he saw the clear anger and aggravation in her eyes, but he didn't flinch back. He kept his gaze just as steady, determined not to back down, though he could feel her cold fury raining down on him like thousand little daggers made of ice pouring with their points bent on his death, though she would never seriously harm him. Just probably jinx him for the month or so. "I really need your help," he said in a final tone.  
  
Slowly understanding how serious he was about her guidance, she softened her gaze and nodded, putting the book aside and finishing her toast in two bites.  
  
Ron just sat there in amazement, very much stunned to where he couldn't say anything but stare. Hermione loved him, but she would never think twice about what HE would ask for. Harry, who's reasons he didn't have the faintest Idea about just stared back at her and she agreed, even set her book ASIDE to hurry up. He nearly fainted from the sudden change in both of them, the only thing keeping him awake is when Harry was shaking him to finish his juice and come along.  
  
Draco had been watching this from the corner of his eye, gently probed Harry's mind and found out that he was planning on doing some background searching on Carpathians and Vampires. 'The most he'll probably find out though,' he thought in amusement, 'is that Carpathians are also the names for some mountains'. But it would be good for Harry to understand the seriousness of the situation, so he didn't try to stop them. Nonetheless, Draco was still slightly hurt that Harry hadn't come to him to find out some more. But Draco also thought about how he still wasn't used to any of this and knew that by now anyone else would have been scared senseless. He was glad that Harry was the one and whispered under his breath, "Good luck." He turned back and allowed himself to be entertained by Pansy, who insisted that her mother's new Budgie could speak Portuguese and Spanish, though no one told her that they were basically the same language.  
  
~+~  
  
Hermione had lead them directly into the restricted section, not even taking her time to look at any other shelf, though she still didn't know what Harry was looking for.  
  
"Hermione, if you'd please let me explain," Harry was trying to reason.  
  
"Don't worry Harry," Hermione said confidently, searching along the spines of certain weathered books, "whatever it is, surely we're to find it among these."  
  
"That's just it," Harry tried again, not paying attention to which volumes she was handing Ron, though many seemed immensely heavy, "what I'm looking for is something that isn't so common nor natural."  
  
Hermione turned, once again annoyed at him, possibly telling her that she had mistaken him totally. "Well then," she said in a huffy tone, "what ARE you looking for?"  
  
Harry sighed, knowing it would be no good reasoning with her, so he just told her Carpathians.  
  
To his shock, Hermione visibly paled at the mentioning, but Ron was to busy carrying the books to the nearest table to pay much attention. "Harry," she said barely above a whisper, "what do you want to know about them?"  
  
"What they are," he was looking for the reason he was even here. Of course he wanted to know what they are, but something in him also didn't want to find out if the truth was that bad.  
  
She looked around and made sure Ron was still distracted, then turned back to Harry and asked him, "Is there something you're not telling us?"  
  
He looked her in the eyes, and she knew he was. But before he started, she had to promise not to tell Ron. To prove that she would keep silent, she sent him off to find a book that she had checked out since the beginning of the year, then turned all of her attention to Harry, gripping the novel tighter in her hand.  
  
Harry tried describing her the best he could about what had happened between him and Draco, their meeting in the Hall, then that morning. His words, his voice, the look in his eyes, everything. When he finally finished, all she could do was stare at him for a moment, beginning to resemble a ghost with a parched throat.  
  
"But Draco's so, so pale," she tried reasoning logically.  
  
"His paleness and hair come from his mother's side, siren," he explained from what he had told him.  
  
"Well Harry," she told him in the calmest voice she could manage, "you got into some deep mess this time." She shook her head while gazing down at the book that showed an angel headstone made of granite and a single red rose, the titling in a metallic purple. "I wish I'd never started reading this book," she said angrily, looking as if she'd rip it apart.  
  
"Why?" he asked in confusion. What would a book have to do with what is happening?  
  
"I think it's all my fault," she said, gazing at him with eyes close to tears. "This book is almost like your problem," she paused, watching Harry's reaction, but his expression hadn't changed. "It's like a guide to Carpathians," she started, "you could almost explain them as Veelas that can't walk in the day, can change into any form they wish but not when they're angry, and have a very long lifetime. But that they will not hesitate to follow the ones they love into death. I'm truly sorry, Harry. I wished so hard for something so incredible to happen, so unbelievable-"  
  
Harry went ashen, the thought of someone like that having chosen him for life. Him! A simple human wizard. . .  
  
"But one thing I don't understand," Hermione admitted, thinking back on what she had read sofar. "Unlike Veelas, Carpathians don't normally have a mano-et-mano relationship. It's very much impossible, least alone the fact that you're human."  
  
Harry, sensing that he didn't want to know but had to, asked the question he dreaded, "What do you mean 'least alone the fact that I'm human'?"  
  
Hermione looked him directly in the eyes this time, definitely concealing something he didn't want to hear. "If the human is what they seek, mostly they don't survive when they. . ."  
  
Knowing she didn't have to say anymore, she left it hanging at that and saw how Harry nearly fainted, when he heard Draco's voice intrude into his mind.  
  
"We need to talk," was what he said.  
  
Absentmindedly, Harry asked him, "when?"  
  
"After dinner," he said, then added as an after-thought, "put your invisibility cloak on when you come to the forest."  
  
"What?" Harry asked in disbelief. He couldn't mean into 'the' forest, but there weren't any other ones around to confuse it with.  
  
"Not inside, the edge."  
  
"But how will I know where you are?" Draco had already left his presence to leave Harry alone in his thoughts.  
  
"Harry?" Hermione asked in a worried tone when she saw how Harry had broken into a sweat, his eyes looking slightly dilated.  
  
"I can talk to him telepathically," was all he could say before he had a blackout and collapsed.  
  
~+~  
  
Harry awoke in a white-sheeted bed, with another occupied bed across from him. A third-year had obviously been playing around in one of the greenhouses and a plant had bitten her hand and it was now a sickening shade of blue. It was clear to now that he was in the hospital wing.  
  
"Harry, thank goodness you're awake," Ron said, his face very much relieved that his friend hadn't been in any serious state.  
  
"What happened?" he asked, slowly sitting up in his bed, his head still throbbing slightly.  
  
"You fainted," Hermione told him, putting a hand to his forehead to make sure he didn't have a fever.  
  
"No, I'm fine, I just-," he was in the process of pushing her hand away when he saw where she was sitting. In Ron's Lap, where next to him stood what used to be her chair.  
  
Noticing to where he was looking and why he was grinning like that all of a sudden, Hermione quickly stood up, throwing Ron's arm off of her and going around to her seat, where she sat for the rest of the time, blushing.  
  
Looking for a change of subject, Ron told Harry about how Madam Pomfrey said that his collapse had been caused by him using too much mental strength, normally as a result to having telekinesis or telepathy.  
  
Harry looked at Hermione, who showed no sign of guilt, and took Ron's word for what had happened. Suddenly remembering why his head was hurting, he asked what time it was.  
  
"Dinner just started ten minutes ago," Hermione said, shocked at his sudden pomposity.  
  
"Damnit!" was the only answer they got as he jumped out of bed and started running towards the Gryffindor Dormitory, all too fast for Ron and Hermione to have transferred before he was out the door.  
  
"Did he just-" she started.  
  
"Yep," Ron answered her.  
  
"Well, then-"  
  
"That did go rather well I guess."  
  
"Shall we be-"  
  
"I thought you'd never ask."  
  
~+~  
  
Harry left Gryffindor tower as soon as he had arrived there, leaving a very stunned Fat Lady watch his retreating back go down the stairs to dinner, with something silver bundled under his robes as well.  
  
Arriving in the Great Hall he searched Slytherin Table to assure himself Draco hadn't left yet. He saw the blond-haired boy in a deep discussion about something with Adrian Pucey, who was still there for the sake of attending old classes. With a sigh of relief, he made his way over to his own table, where Hermione and Ron had saved a seat for him.  
  
"You alright now Harry?" Ron asked him as he sat down.  
  
"Yeah, where were you doing lunch?" Neville asked on a mouth full of Chicken potpie.  
  
"Dying in a hospital bed," he joked, issuing a nervous laugh as Neville and Ginny, who had been sitting nearby overheard, cast him a worried frown. "No, I'd just had a blackout, that's all," he tried assuring them as he put some mashed potateos and mincemeat pie on his plate, ladling gravy over it all.  
  
"Here's some pumpkin juice," Ron inquired, handing him the glass with its contents that Hermione gave him.  
  
"Thanks," he said, taking it from Ron's hand and taking a big gulp of the contents. He felt like his mouth hadn't been so wet in decades.  
  
"So, you want to come with us after dinner and play some rounds of Wizards Chess?" Ginny asked in enthusiasm, hoping Harry would accept.  
  
"Sorry Ginny," Harry smiled at her, so she wouldn't feel to disappointed, "but I've already planned something for the evening."  
  
"Oh?" Ron said, his eyebrows raised. "You've been in the hospital all day, what could you have possibly planned?"  
  
"I had it planned before I fainted," he replied, finishing up his pie and drinking down the rest of his juice. "Well," he said, "I'm done. See you later," and with that, he walked out in the direction of the great oak doors, where in the great hall not many students were left.  
  
~+~  
  
Walking the grounds so late in the evening, dew had already settled on them, giving the place an eerie silvery glow in the moonlight, 'just like his eyes,' Harry thought.  
  
He had the invisibility cloak over him, yet he felt like he was still being watched, stalked with each unseen move he made. Pushing the thought away of having a silent predator behind him somewhere, he started jogging to where they were to meet. Reaching the meeting place, Harry took off the cloak, looking around to see if he saw any sign of Draco coming to meet him.  
  
Harry had been thoroughly wavered through with the evening dampness, a rarity for England, and he couldn't silence his surprise at the sudden stroke along down his back.  
  
Turning in surprise, he met directly with Draco's spellbinding eyes, holding him in place as Draco moved closer, running his thumb along Harry's lower lip, feeling the heat of his breath and the shiver the touch sent through him.  
  
'He's cold,' Draco noted, pulling Harry into an embrace under his mantle, causing Draco's inside to stir with sudden excitement. He slightly cringed with the sudden flooding of his need of joining with him, barely keeping himself in check if not the within.  
  
Harry, who was trying his best to avoid looking into Draco's eyes searched for the distraction of any kind of sound, for the wind possibly blowing. But all was still, no howl towards the full moon, no crickets chirping their usual evening songs of proposal to their hearts. 'Just like a wolf calling towards its mate,' Harry thought suddenly.  
  
He snapped his head back with sudden fear, fear that flooded his mind, his blood, his soul. Looking deep into Draco's silverness, he could see the slight fire burning so deep, deep within all of what seemed like shrouded darkness. Draco muttered something under his breath, something Harry couldn't understand. 'Another language?' he thought in confusion. It seemed like something so old that he had just said, something that seemed ageless. 'Once where the ancients walked their paths,' a memory flitted through his mind, 'taking the power of the night, being called children of the dark. Having to face loneliness throughout their life, then being condemned to seek peace or seek death.'  
  
"What are you thinking of?" Draco lowered his head, drinking in Harry's forever green stare.  
  
"Don't do that," Harry said somewhat out of breath, trying to push away from the one who kept him trapped so neatly next to him. His body was as if made to stand against his.  
  
"Do what?" Draco asked innocently enough, but his gaze spoke otherwise. He brushed his hand down Harry's back, making the other boy arch slightly with sudden ecstasy. When he held his head tipped back a little, leaving his throat fully exposed and unprotected, Draco couldn't hold himself anymore, and bent his head down to the hollow of his neck.  
  
Harry hadn't expected for Draco to be this way, so gentle yet so, so- his mind went all into a muddle when he felt Draco's teeth brush against his neck, when he felt sudden but sweet pain flash through his neck, through his mind. His eyes blinked closed, unable to keep them open at the intensity of what was happening. But then when he felt the warmth of Draco's mouth leave his throat, he knew he should have felt relieved, but instead had a slight chagrin go through him.  
  
'Why didn't he try to push him away before it happened?' He asked himself furiously. 'Because you couldn't help but enjoy what had happened,' the annoying little voice was back again, yet quickly pushed away when Draco flicked his tongue across Harry's eyelids, making him dig his fingers into Draco's shirt.  
  
Draco had to stop himself before it went too far. The beast was now shrieking for release, craving what the other boy had, even if it killed him. He had moved too fast, and letting go of his arms, he pushed Harry back to where he nearly stumbled.  
  
All Harry could do was stare at the other boy, who had filled his mind moments before but now getting away as fast as possible from him. 'I'm glad he did,' Harry muttered to himself, trying to reason for what had happened. But the pain and hurt in his eyes he could not hide, not having much experience in hiding his emotions.  
  
The longer Draco looked at him, the more it was like knives being thrown at him, at his heart. He couldn't take it anymore. Moving past Harry, he called, "you should best stay away from me," and walked into the castle.  
  
Harry stared after him a while longer, then picked up his cloak, threw it over his shoulder and started making his way back to Gryffindor tower. 'I'm going in for sick tomorrow,' he thought bitterly.  
  
~+~  
  
A/N: HAH! Eep, this is so weird . . . why did I start writing this again? +_+ Someone slap me and type 'Perv' across my forehead. Good Grief! But I edited it a little, so it should be more improved! . . . yeah . . . whatever. R/R if you please. 


	3. Discarded Magic

Dark Temptations  
  
A/N: Well, third chapter up, actually really fast. I haven't even waited for any reviews on the last chapter. Oh well, my mind is in a frenzy at the moment, so I'll just be writing absent-mindedly for a while.  
  
Disclaimer: As in the previous two, if anything WERE to belong to me, they wouldn't be as strongly popular as they are now.  
  
Chapter 3-Discarded Magic  
  
Harry lay in his bed awake, listening to the intent but gentle breathing of his dorm-mates. He couldn't forget the previous evening, though it seemed like a dream now, so long ago. 'Why do I hurt?' he asked himself repeatedly, still not understanding what was wrong with him. He shouldn't like Draco like that, he had never even thought about the other boy in such a fashion. And why should he? He'd never thought about anyone like that, only the crush he'd had on Cho a few years back. "I hate this," he mumbled into his pillow. But one thing that had touched Harry deeply was when Draco had placed the Contacts in his eyes. With that trust, though, anything could've happened, and Harry couldn't stand that idea of being unguarded against someone who really didn't deserve his trust at all. "Why me?" he moaned before drifting off into a restless night.  
  
Draco was somewhat disturbed with the things he felt around the other boy. He knew that Harry trusted him to a certain level, but that was all. Yet, he could also have such an impact on him, that Draco would also turn in his sleep, his thoughts filled with desire. He dreamed of the day when Harry would finally be his, if he would be his. 'I'm setting him in a danger that he doesn't need and shouldn't be exposed to,' he thought, still pacing around in his dormitory. He remembered the fire within him, the howling and shrieking of the inner personage, the passion he had felt for him. "This is insane," he muttered aloud, wondering if Harry was having a better chance at sleep than he was. Unable to resist, he sent his thought out, and found Harry was indeed fast asleep. At least for that moment, because he sensed Harry having awoken from something. Something that terrified him, he wondered. He finally agreed to himself that he should go and see if he needed any help, and silently drifted as the particles of a subconscious being, floating out with the slight breeze coming in through the door and floating out into the halls, heading for the seventh floor.  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
  
Harry had been awoken with the sudden awareness that another person was on top of him, another person he couldn't see, but felt for sure. He had been sleeping on his back when he felt the weight upon him. Trying to yell for help, his calls were muffled by the pillow and drowned out by Ron's loud snoring. 'Damnit,' he swore in his mind, 'I'm starting to lose air! Somebody, please help me!'  
  
He heard the person behind him mutter something in a different language, "oculis orbatus." He felt heat pass before his eyes, a flash of red, then they felt normal again. When he was turned around on his back, all of his vision was dark, as if blind. "Suspensus," the person above him said, before he could even take a breath and shout. His throat started burning for a moment, trying to talk, his air being cut off with the more he tried yelling. Harry felt his shirt being lifted, then heard a chinking noise, something metal being knocked out of its holder. 'Oh god,' he whispered without a voice, feeling the cold metal trace where his heart was, slightly shifting under its sharp pressure.  
  
"So nervous?" the person asked in a calm voice that sent chills up Harry's neck. "But that's typical, especially when you're about to face death," Harry was picturing the person raising their arms above their head, the knife brandished towards his heart, "filthy bloodsucker!" He could feel the person's hatred directed upon him, his very life. "What you did to me years ago, you will now pay for." Raising the Knife higher, the person didn't expect the sudden jolt from behind. Harry, who was surprised yet also relieved that the sudden weight was off of him, started looking around, but had forgotten he couldn't see anything.  
  
What he did recognize was the familiar sultry voice, low, cool, and now very threatening. "What do you think you're doing?" he demanded from the person in a half whisper.  
  
He could hear the person struggling, making it obvious that whoever it was definitely didn't have a real chance of fighting back. "Damn you," the stranger hissed between clenched teeth, still struggling against Draco's strength. "I will send all of you back to hell were you belong!"  
  
He heard a silent yelp, thinking that Draco was holding on tighter to whomever had tried to kill him in his sleep. With a quick intake of breath, Draco uttered in a stunned voice, "But-you're a girl!"  
  
"Very observant," she said, mocking his discovery at what was wrong with her chest, "but to who I am I will never show you!"  
  
Harry heard a loud 'pop', which also startled Ron in his sleep, though he continued to dream in silence, and felt the weight of the quietness pressing in on him. He was trying to move to where he supposed Draco was standing, but tripped over something and was caught quick around the waist by a strong arm.  
  
"What happened?" he asked him in worry, raising him with his arm of the ground somewhat and settling him back on his bed.  
  
Harry immediately started moving his lips, to his dismay, nothing coming out.  
  
"Harry?"  
  
'She put a spell on me!' he wanted to yell, not being able to stand the darkness that he couldn't escape. It was like being buried alive to him, no sight, no voice, only sound and touch to rely on. 'She was trying to kill me!' he was yelling in his mind.  
  
Draco pulled sat down on his bed, and pulled him close to an embrace, all the while stroking his back. "It's okay now," he murmured in a low voice, "try to remember the words she said."  
  
Harry thought back, 'the words, they were foreign!'  
  
"You didn't understand them?" Draco asked, still holding Harry close.  
  
It took Harry a moment to remember that he had some kind of a telepathic connection to Draco, which helped him a lot at this moment. 'They were weird,' he explained, in other words, thought. 'It was like she was twisting her tongue.' A 'she' had tried to kill him. The only hint was that it was for revenge from her past and that she called him a 'bloodsucker'. 'This is bull!' he swore deep in his thoughts.  
  
"I understand your tension," Draco said soothingly, continuously stroking Harry's back in a languid touch, "Don't worry about it."  
  
Harry, who was dozing against Draco's chest, came back with a sudden snap to his senses. 'I remember them!' he said in a delighted tone. 'I remember the words!'  
  
Draco stopped his stroking and held him somewhat away, not letting go of his shoulders. He was probably staring him in the eyes, Harry figured. "What were they?"  
  
'When I was about to shout, she muttered something that sounded like 'soospensoon', or something like that,' Harry was doing his best to try and remember, he had been too shocked to really try and listen to what had been said. When Draco didn't answer, Harry continued on, 'And when she turned me around,' he stopped, focusing on trying to remember her exact words, 'This was even weirder.'  
  
"Try Harry," Draco breathed against his cheek, "for your own sake, please try."  
  
Harry frowned, thinking about the words. 'Something like, 'oculis orbit. I really can't remember that one!' he said in a frustrated tone.  
  
"That's quite alright," Draco crooned into his ear, feeling the delightful and familiar shiver next to him, "It sounds like she spoke a ban over you. Don't worry, we will figure it out tomorrow."  
  
'We?' Harry was so startled by the thought, he had never considered Draco to want to help him.  
  
"Ah, how soon we forget," he said, stroking his cheek, "hadn't I told you that you would be mine? That no one could make you feel, do things to you that only I can do."  
  
Harry was now absolutely flushed with embarrassment. He hadn't forgotten, but had tried to forget. And now, he was sitting here, discussing things that were the farthest from his mind with the person he was supposed to see as his heart, his other soul part. 'What will I do now?'  
  
"I would suggest you get some sleep."  
  
'Ha-bloody ha,' he thought sarcastically. 'I won't be able to tell the difference between night and day, and I can't even speak for crying out loud!' he started moving his arms wildly about. 'How will I tell Dumbledore what happened?'  
  
"I will go with you," Draco said seriously, gently pushing Harry back to lie down. "Now quit crying over spilled milk and go to bed."  
  
'You're leaving?' Harry thought in panic. 'At least give me some paper and a quill so that I can write!' He would never be able to translate to Ron that a psycho-witch had come into their dorm and tried killing him, but before that had cursed him with some of her own little magic and made him not only blind, but mute.  
  
Draco sat there for a moment, thinking about this problem, then came to a conclusion. "I will be back before the others awaken."  
  
'Could you hand me my wand?' Harry asked trying to feel for it.  
  
He felt the familiar soft wood fall into his hand. "Why do you need it?"  
  
'I want to see if maybe there's a spell that can reverse this.' He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.  
  
"Um, Harry?"  
  
'In lucem proffere!' when nothing happened, he repeated it a second, third time without success. 'Why doesn't it do anything?'  
  
"Your voice is gone, Harry," Draco said gently, seeing how distressed his expression was and started stroking his cheek. "We will find an answer tomorrow when I come."  
  
'Draco,' Harry looked slightly woozy.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
'How do you even get in here?' Harry asked, remembering that Draco couldn't come in without the password, and no one was so reckless as to speak of it near Slytherins.  
  
"Go to sleep," he could feel the dawn coming and needed to get back to his room fast. Before leaving, he brushed a kiss against Harry's cheek and hastened his departure.  
  
'Why me?' Harry dropped back against what he felt was his pillow and dozed off again, keeping the previous evening as a dream.  
  
* * * * * * * * * *  
  
"Wake up, Harry," a soft voice whispered into his ear. He didn't want to get up yet, he knew it was way too early for any kind of arising.  
  
"Go away," he tried muttering, but felt his air cut off instantly. He opened his eyes wide and was struggling to breathe again.  
  
A arm was slid around his waist and a hand against his chest, "Breathe slowly, but don't try to speak."  
  
'Draco!' the shouted in his mind.  
  
"I said I would come before anyone else was awake," Harry could picture him smirking his most annoying smile. "How do you feel?" he asked in his most serious manner.  
  
'I feel like I normally do when I get up,' he muttered drowsily in his thoughts, 'I feel like going back to bed.' The darkness that seemed eternal to him was really starting to get on his nerves. 'I feel like I'm forever trapped in the shadows.'  
  
When Draco didn't say anything, Harry waved his hand in front of what he thought would be Draco's face. 'Draco?'  
  
"I'm fine," he said, shaking his head, "now let's get you some clothes." Draco got up from the bed and started moving to Harry's trunk.  
  
'. . . pardon?'  
  
"You need to get dressed," he answered in a Hermione-matter-of-fact tone.  
  
'You can't!' Harry felt his face growing warmer by the second.  
  
"Can't what?" Draco asked in a confused tone. "I'm just getting some clothes for you to put on."  
  
'Oh,' Harry had thought that he would dress him. His face got even warmer at the thought of Draco seeing him in his boxers. 'I didn't know that.'  
  
Harry couldn't see the malicious glint in Draco's eyes as he saw his thoughts. He smiled a mischievous smile and walked back over to Harry, putting a blue sweatshirt and blue jeans in his lap, giving him a pair of socks directly in his hand.  
  
'Thank you.' Harry had a little trouble getting his socks on, but got the hang of it after some failed trials. He stopped in the middle of pulling his shirt off when he remembered he was being watched. 'Um, Draco?'  
  
"Yes?" his answer was dripping with too much innocence, which made Harry a little edgy with being in the same room as him.  
  
'Could you please not watch me?' Harry closed his eyes, his face once again a ripe tomato.  
  
"What shall I watch?" Draco was having an amusing time watching Harry search his thoughts for the right words without feeling to humiliated in front of him.  
  
'You know what I mean,' he said half-heartedly. How did Draco always get him in such a state?  
  
"Very well." Harry only started dressing again as he heard his foot- steps go some distance and slowly started fading.  
  
Once he was left alone, he let out a discontented sigh. Starting again with pulling his clothes off, he thought about what the girl had said. 'She wants revenge,' he pondered, getting his shirt on over his head, ' revenge for something either vampires or carpets or whatever did to her long ago.' Sliding into his jeans and zipping them up, he then crawled around on the floor looking for his shoes. 'Why didn't she reverse her spell before vanishing?' he thought in anguish, hitting his head against the corner of his trunk. 'I don't know if I'll survive the day like this. . .'  
  
"Looking for something?" a drowzy voice asked behind him.  
  
'Neville!' he thought in surprise, then remembered that he used the bathroom in the mornings and went back to bed.  
"You're shoes are to your left," he said, walking over and dropping them in front of him. "Honestly Harry, how do you expect to see anything without your glasses?"  
  
Harry prayed that he was shrugging in his direction, giving him his most confused smile. Hearing Neville walk off while muttering something, he let his breath out in a rush. 'Thank goodness he didn't pay any attention.' He hurriedly put his shoes on, though had them on the wrong feet the first time, tucked the strings in the side and started making his way to the stairs. He at least knew that direction by heart from where his bed stood, nearly right across from it. Harry's next challenge were the stairs. Holding on to the rail with little more than desperate hope, he slowly made his way down, relieved when he felt the smooth floor underneath his feet.  
  
"It took you long enough," a purring voice called from a corner to his right.  
  
'Draco?'  
  
"Who else would you expect at six in the morning?" Draco covered the distance between them in two long strides, took Harry's arm and started leading him to what he guessed was the portrait.  
  
'Where are we going?' he had no clue where Draco was leading him to.  
  
"We're going to see the old Crackhead if he can help us," he said, seizing Harry's arm into his own. "He should be able to tell us what that girl did to you last night."  
  
'But don't you need a password to get in?' Harry was curious how Draco kept getting all of this secret stuff.  
  
Instead, Draco stopped and stood there. "Damnit!"  
  
'What?'  
  
Draco didn't answer immediately, instead he held Harry in front of him and Harry could feel those silver eyes burning through him again. "How much do you trust me sofar?"  
  
'Um. . .'  
  
"I can get us through, but you have to trust me completely."  
  
That was beyond Harry's capability. After all he's been through with and without him, he had it very difficult to trust someone who wasn't Hermione or Ron. 'I. . . I don't know if I can-'  
  
"That's okay Harry," Draco said, already knowing that he couldn't expect that of Harry, not yet. "You will wait by the statue, then I will let you in from inside."  
  
'Um, okay.' Harry didn't have much of an option, seeing as Draco was both his eyes and voice now. As the walked further down the hall, they stopped in what he felt as the middle. 'What are we doing?'  
  
"Wait here," Draco said, letting go of Harry's arm and vanishing without any kind of sound.  
  
'Draco?' Harry had enough of these sudden silences, especially if he couldn't see why they were. Trying to move towards the wall, he breathed in quick as he felt himself trip and start falling. 'Draco!'  
  
"I'm right here," Harry fell against his chest when he could feel that they weren't in a place that offered much room. "Let's go see what Dumbledore has to say about this now."  
  
'We're inside the staircase?' He felt the ground move slightly against his feet, then started rotating upwards.  
  
"We're now in front of his doors, if that's what you mean," Draco said trying to lighten the mood, which he didn't have much practice in if any at all.  
  
A/N: Suggestions, comments, arguments, hate notes, whatever you have to say, speak your mind! ^-^ And I have decided to rewrite chapter 2. Hope that makes some of you happy. I try *sniff * 


	4. Skipped Honesty

Dark Temptations  
  
A/N: Really sorry for taking so long, I've been brain-storming (actually, Volleyball is suicide), and I've been thinking of how to continue (honestly, I've been sleeping). Well, looking at your reviews I have come to the conclusion. . . would you hate me if I leave it open-ended? I really don't know what to do. . . half of you are saying 'let it be Mpreg!' the other half 'What?! Forget that!' Well, not those exact words, but you get the idea. So I'm thinking about. . . wait, I can't tell. Hehehe-sorry. Unless someone wants to suggest about me talking to them with what I'm planning, my only reliable source is darksiren666, who really won't criticize this story, but sometimes is also brutally honest. Oh, and I would like to thank Skyla for helping me with parts, you're the greatest!  
  
Disclaimer: Said it once, said it twice, say it again, I'm not genius enough for owning both stories.  
  
A/N 2: This is after I finished writing, but I'm going to put this at the top anyway. Really sorry if this is somewhat boring, but it had to occur for me to get to the real deal with this story.  
  
Chapter 4-Skipped Honesty  
  
Standing in front of the doors to Dumbledore's office, Harry slightly resisted against Draco's tug on his arm, but then allowed himself to be led in.  
  
"Professor Dumbledore?" Draco knocked on the wood, which made an echoing sound all the way to the bottom of the staircase. Receiving a muffled answer, Draco pushed the door open, with Harry trailing behind him. "Professor Dumb-AAGH!"  
  
"Draco, dearest Cousin!" a female voice said, causing Draco to release Harry's arm and make him stagger backwards against the door, which had closed automatically upon their entry.  
  
"Get-off-me!" Draco was saying between gasped breathes. "Lolita, what are you doing here?" he asked in an amazed voice after he could stand again, Harry supposed.  
  
"Don't be so harsh," she scolded him, "father requested that we come here to attend this school from now on."  
  
"We?" he asked in disbelief.  
  
Harry was having the hardest time trying to follow the unseen scenario, but was interrupted in the line of thought when he heard another voice, male, and more. . . enticing.  
  
"Yes, we," it came from ahead on Harry's right side, what he figured was near the fireplace.  
  
"Gregori!" Draco said, further astounded and barely believing what was happening. "Why are you here?" he demanded after a moment of dumfounded silence.  
  
"Mikhail suggested it best if she was to attend a school who can, shall we say, cope with our ways of living," the person seemed very wise, with an ageless air about him, though his youthful sound. "The private school she had attended made it hard for her to control her hunger, and they also stayed out in the light too long, making her doze and often caused her to fall on her face or run into walls."  
  
Draco laughed a scornful laugh. "And how did you get her out of that situation?"  
  
"We told them she had a sleeping disorder," he shrugged it off.  
  
"Everyone always crowded around me and it gave me a terrible headache," she explained, "you have no idea what goes on in a young guy's mind. What they think when they see some other girls in shorts."  
  
Harry couldn't do anything but just smile, shake his head, and look around at things that would always show black, so it didn't matter. But he was starting to get frustrated at only having voices to direct himself to.  
  
"Yes, well, could you all please sit down," Dumbledore interrupted, clearly not wanting to know what goes on in the youths mind these days. Harry heard the slightly squeaky noises as they all settled into a couch, Draco leading him over and settling him down, taking a seat next to Harry. "Now, as I was about to summon Mr. Malfoy, it seems that you have come here without me needing to. The next question-why?"  
  
"Sir, Harry was attacked," Draco started in an earnest voice, Harry feeling that Draco regretted not having paid him any attention during those few moments, which he didn't mind at all.  
  
"What do you mean attacked?" Dumbledore asked, ready to call in the Order.  
  
"A girl attacked Harry while he was asleep," Draco began, "she had spoken a ban over him, but as she was about to stab him in the heart, I pulled her off of him and she aparated."  
  
Harry heard Lolita gasp, which was followed by a crushing silence pressing in on him. He could feel all eyes in the room turn on him. 'What?' was all he thought in his mind, not being able to speak.  
  
"He sure thinks normally for someone just having been attacked," Lolita implied, clearly disagreeing with him. "Boy, you were about to be killed if it hadn't been for Draco coming to save you at the last minute. Have you even thanked him for that?"  
  
"Which leads us to another point," Gregori interfered, seeing a slight chagrined expression appear on his face. "Draco, what were you doing in his bedroom?" Amusement was very audible in his voice.  
  
"Dearest cousin," Draco said in a cool low voice, "what I do around here and who I am with concern you not in the least."  
  
'Um,' Harry wanted to explain that part, his face growing warm.  
  
"Oh, I would think otherwise," Gregori's eyes flashed dangerously, but Harry of course couldn't tell. "You know exactly what I mean."  
  
Harry guessed that Draco was glaring at Gregori with death eyes, which used to be directed towards him, because he wouldn't answer. 'Draco?' he asked.  
  
"Fine," Draco spat, then sighed as if 6 month's rain, "Gregori, Lolita, please do not laugh. Professor, if you would like us to leave, then we shall."  
  
"Not at all, Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore said earnestly, "Ms. Dubrinsky here has informed me very detailed what you all have as a heritage, so I will certainly respect my elders."  
  
"Gregori's about the only one here that's older than this school possibly," Lolita said in a teasing tone, "he doesn't even count anymore."  
  
Her laughter was very charming to Harry, like little silver bells tinkling during a gentle breeze. He was startled when he heard a growl.  
  
"Gregori," Draco growled back in his most menacing voice, "wait till I explain to you."  
  
"Well then, better start talking, because I'm already starting to dislike this fellow who keeps staring at the bird." Gregori's voice wasn't too unkind, but anything besides friendly.  
  
"Please meet my soul mate," Draco stated, putting his arm around Harry's shoulders, pulling him closer.  
  
Harry blushed as Lolita slightly yelped, Dumbledore clearing his throat, and Gregori remaining silent. He did remain silent, until Harry heard him fall to the floor laughing.  
  
"You mentioned bans, Mr..Malfoy," Dumbledore inquired, changing the subject. "What kind, if you know?"  
  
Draco was still glaring at Gregori, pulling Harry closer to him all the while. "She caused him to go blind and lose his voice," he finally said.  
  
Gregori stopped laughing for a moment, thinking about how serious this was, Harry could feel it. But the fact that he'd been staring at the bird stand behind him with no bird in it and him being blind with out anyone knowledge caused him to double over again, tears rolling down his cheeks.  
  
"My, my Gregori," Draco said in his most solid voice, "I don't recall a time where you even so much as cracked a smile. What's happened? Life becoming amusing?"  
  
Gregori stopped laughing, and Harry figured that he was glaring straight back at Draco, because strangely, he could feel the anger emitting from him but also the silver eyed boys' own despising emotions towards his cousin.  
  
"Gregori has to laugh," Lolita said in a matter-of-fact tone, clearly ignoring the fact that they were trying to kill each other with glances and stares. "I told him that if he didn't start enjoying humor, he would have an even worse time with me than father had with mother."  
  
"You didn't," Draco asked, starting to sound friendlier again. "Lolita, that's even more cruel than what Raven would have done."  
  
"Like mother like daughter I suppose," she replied, waving the cause aside. "I asked Simon to give him some lessons, but after a good ten minutes he assured us that he hadn't cracked any ribs."  
  
'From what?' Harry asked without really paying attention.  
  
"From laughing so hard at the thought of Gregori even letting a smile play on his face," Lolita answered him, probably smiling that infuriating sweet girl smile that all females show.  
  
"Watch it Lita," Gregori growled, even making Harry move closer next to Draco. "You don't want to be punished, do you?"  
  
What seemed to Dumbledore as a threat Harry could see as a lustful offer of. . . he decided to not continue the thought. 'Why the hell am I seeing these things?' he asked in the back of his mind.  
  
"What? Don't you know?" Lolita asked in a startled voice. "You do have telepathy, don't' you?"  
  
'I thought that was only with Draco,' he replied, clearly confused about anything with his thoughts.  
  
"Harry," Dumbledore began from somewhere to the left, "do you remember when Voldemort took some of your blood?"  
  
Harry could feel Draco's grip tighten even more on him, making it difficult to breathe properly. The only thing Harry could do was nod, mostly out of fear by the sudden hatred coming from the boy next to him. Pure, cold, relentless fury, all directed at the dark lord.  
  
"And you also recall as when I told you that your mother protected you?" he pressed on.  
  
'Draco!' Harry tried shifting against the iron grip Draco held him in. 'Draco, I can't breathe!'  
  
"What? Oh, sorry Harry." Some of Draco's fury mellowed down, but the core of it hadn't vanished yet.  
  
"When Voldemort touched you in your first year here, and your scar began to burn," Dumbledore sounded uncomfortable about talking of these things at such a moment, "that was also a contact that ripped a tear in the protection your mother had placed upon you before her death."  
  
'What do you mean?' he was careful so as not to get nearly choked again out of good intentions.  
  
"Your mother not only protected your life, but also your mind."  
  
'Pardon?' Harry didn't understand anything of what he was talking about. But he was sure it wasn't a result as to what that she-devil had done to him.  
  
"Your mother had created a block in your mind that protected you from overflowing with other painful emotions and memories," he explained, "a barrier that kept other thoughts and feelings out of your mind."  
  
There was a moment that passed where nobody said anything. 'I do have psychic powers?' he finally asked.  
  
"Not so much as powers as a talent of your own being and genetics," he said, figuring what Harry had questioned. "But it seemed to have shattered some more as I figure when Mr. Malfoy tried talking with your through his mind?"  
  
'How did you know?' Harry questioned, hoping that this man also didn't have the ability to see others thoughts as well. 'Oh, crap.'  
  
Draco gave him a confused look, but didn't say anything when green jewels didn't look back. 'He can't see me,' he thought in pain. "Professor," Draco interrupted before their discussion could continue, "maybe we should be giving Harry his vision back before we go on."  
  
"Oh, of course of course. Please forgive, with all these other occurrences happening." Dumbledore stood up and began rummaging through his belongings, finally finding a thick leather-bound book, which could have fit in a pocket, were it not so stuffed with old pages. "Right then," he said, "your ability to see and to speak again, correct?"  
  
Harry nodded, eager to get sight back, though he'd been having a nice time with his thoughts as well. He didn't miss speech that much, but he would like to yell for help again as well.  
  
Dumbledore cleared his throat, and gently placed his wands' tip against Harry's throat. "Don't panic if you feel strange," he said, his voice giving Harry some confidence. "Loquendi Facultas."  
  
A warmth emitted from the depths of his throat, a surge wrapping him in a mesmerizing sensation, indescribable with words alone.  
  
Now the tip was upon his nose, making him twitch slightly. "Visendus."  
  
Harry's eyes felt cold, freezing, they began to water and he had to squint them closed, the cold making his head hurt slightly. Rubbing them frantically, he blinked once, twice, then screamed.  
  
"Harry, what is it? What's wrong?" Draco took him by the shoulders, turning his head ever so often in Dumbledore's direction, accusation clear in his look. "Harry, what did he do to you?"  
  
"Everything's blurry!" he protested, "It all looks so fuzzy!"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Oh, move aside," Lolita said, getting up from her chair and elbowing the men out of her way, including Dumbledore. "Quit moving your head and hold still. Now open your eyes."  
  
"I can see!" he said, smiling brightly.  
  
"Amazing, what did you do?" Draco asked, staring at his cousin with  
new found respect.  
  
"I put some glasses in front of his eyes," she said, acting like it  
were the most logical thing in the world.  
  
Draco looked back and saw the bifocals now, the adoration sliding from  
his face to be replaced by a grimace of loathing. "You really are  
amazing," he muttered under his breath.  
  
"Thank you," she replied sweetly, adding a little courtsey to increase  
his fury.  
  
"Why am I the one related to her?" he asked, raising his arms towards the ceiling.  
  
"I don't see why you're complaining," Gregori added next to him, "I'm the one who's stuck with her for the rest of my days."  
  
"And so you are," Lolita said, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him fondly on the cheek.  
  
"Well now," Dumbledore interrupted once again from behind, "back to the fact of getting you all settled in."  
  
"Yes, in which house will Lita be in?" Draco was praying to his lucky stars that it would be hufflepuff, a perfect punishment upon the little vixen.  
  
"Well, before you arrived, the sorting hat had already been placed upon her head," Dumbledore eyed Lolita, unsure as to wether he should continue or not.  
  
Lolita seeing his discomfort, did not ease his tension when she said it herself, "I am now a proud Gryffindor."  
  
Draco sat still for a moment, seeming oblivious to anything around him except for Harry's confused and slightly unfocused eyes. "What?" he burst out, his mind working properly again.  
  
"You don't have to shout, Draco," she said, rubbing her ear, as if it had been poked at. "I am a Gryffindor," she spoke with a tone leaving no room for objections, "and I will be attending to each of the classes from what I have seen."  
  
"But how will you be able to walk in the sun's strongest moments? What about you falling asleep during the day," he threw against her, "and what about Gregori?"  
  
Lolita rolled her eyes, not understanding the whole point of why he was disagreeing so strongly. "Father let some special clothes be tailored for me. The teachers will receive a note saying that I am not to attend flying classes until the evening. The same goes for Care of Magical creatures and I will come here to get rest if I need any. And as for Gregori," she looked at him, smiling slightly.  
  
Gregori took a bow, raising his head to grin up at Draco, "Say hello to your new Defense against the Dark Arts teacher, boys. We will have a wonderful time together."  
  
If it was impossible for Draco to turn paler than what he already was, then that fact was highly mistaken at that moment. "No," he uttered, wanting this all to be a bad joke of some kind, doubting that they knew how to. "You're pulling my leg, aren't you?"  
  
"I'm sorry, but I do not see myself beneath you tugging your leg to haul you down onto your back," Gregori said in the most sarcastic tone he could manage.  
  
"This is not happening!" he yelled out, wanting it all to be a bad lie, a dream he had while falling asleep again.  
  
"Draco?" Harry touched his arm slightly, not knowing why he did the gesture, but feeling that it would comfort Draco immensely. And so it did. He didn't know what else to do to try and ease the other boy's frustration. Harry met the eyes of Lolita, and seeing her for the first time properly, she very much did take his breath away.  
  
She wasn't much shorter than Harry it seemed, but she definitely did not look like it was possible for her to be related to Draco. Her hair was an even more mysterious black than his, her eyes a vivid blue, all settled against a face that resembled the very spice cinnamon. He then looked over to her right and stared at Gregori. He was tall, muscular, somewhat dirty blonde hair that reminded him of Remus, but his eyes were the piercing gray of a Malfoy. 'A distant cousin,' Harry thought, trying to sort things out in his mind.  
  
"Not distant at all, but almost his uncle," Gregori imposed, frowning slightly as if trying to remember the exact family order.  
  
"Well, now that we have that settled, why don't we go down to breakfast," Dumbledore said, seeming very tired and hungry at the same time.  
  
"How shall we be introduced?" Lolita asked, nervous at the idea of standing in front of a whole crowd. "And what about the sun? It will be impossible for me to stand inside there for no more than five minutes!"  
  
"Don't worry," he said reassuringly. "Look outside, nearly all an overcast today."  
  
"That's a relief," she sighed, leaning lightly against Gregori.  
  
"What about Harry's assassin?" Draco once again held Harry close, making it difficult to breath.  
  
"Lolita will be with him," Gregori answered, seeing that he didn't have an interest in her after all, but a momentary adoration. "You will guide her in her classes today, Harry. And introduce her as your very very distant cousin. Understand?"  
  
The command in his voice made it hard for Harry not to object, but he wouldn't have just the same. He nodded his agreement, his forehead rubbing against Draco's chest causing the other boy to inhale sharply and utter a low moan.  
  
"Draco?" Harry asked in a worried tone.  
  
"Please, my dears," Dumbledore said, ignoring the fact that Gregori could well be his Grandfather if not Great. "Let us commence this conversation another time and go to the great hall for Breakfast."  
  
"But-" Draco started.  
  
"Now." That was the end of the discussion, Dumbledore could take a lot of things, but he refused to allow his stomache to rumble any further for food.  
  
^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^  
  
A/N: How do you guys like that pattern? I was tired and just started pushing buttons accidentally and then the beginning of this showed up so I was all 'cool!' and. . . Well. Yep. Okay, from what I can tell you by looking at my schedule till the end of October or possibly the beginning of November, I will probably be updating every other week. So when you read this, the next chapter will be here in two weeks. * sniff * I want to quit Volleyball, but I don't want to seem as a quitter either. And wish me good luck for becoming secretary for our class. Thanks! 


	5. Shielded Thoughts

Dark Temptations  
  
A/N: Hello again, though you might have noticed this earlier, the title also starts with 'dark', just like the Dark Series. I hadn't even noticed. Oops, haha-at least you guys like it! Well, I'm trying to get this one done in a hurry so I have enough time to try and get my thoughts together. Though I don't normally gloat, I do have to say to myself 'I am a genius.' The end of this story is going to be brilliant! Well, it depends on how you look at it. Anyway, thank you for still reviewing and as always, suggestions are welcome! And for my friends who read but refuse to review, do you really think I'm like Lolita? Woah- that's just too strange.  
  
Once again I would like to show my thanks to Skyla! You're the greatest!  
  
Disclaimer: . . . Must we go through this procedure again? Well, actually, I do own Lolita, just not her last name. Heehee. . .  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Chapter 5-Shielded Thoughts  
  
Standing in front of the doors to the Great Hall, Harry gave Dumbledore and Draco a skeptical look. He had held Draco's hand all the way here. "Are you sure about this?" he asked, Lolita standing right behind him.  
  
"Just act normal, Harry," Dumbledore instructed. They had left Gregori in his office in the dungeons to sleep some more before classes began. "Remember, Lolita is your distant cousin who has moved here upon request of her father job."  
  
Draco gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. "Just make sure she doesn't get near any unguarded throats," he warned teasingly.  
  
"I can take perfectly care of myself, DeeDee," she said, smiling at Draco's shocked and peeved expression, both at the same time. "Gregori isn't my mental guardian, you know."  
  
"But you have to try and help Harry with his new discovery," Dumbledore said, "he has never had an open mental link unguarded like this. It will be a new experience and it could be painful for him finding out some truths he had rather not known."  
  
Lolita gave him a confused look for a moment, then seemed to understand. "So what you want me to do is try to help him rebuild that mental blockage that was torn somewhat?"  
  
"It's not really to rebuild," Dumbledore continued, ignoring Harry's horror-stricken face at not fully understanding each meaning, "he just has an opening that should be covered up with something."  
  
"I'll see what I can do," she said, turning Harry's head so that he was forced to look into her intense blue ones. "Draco, you had better help me," she shot over his shoulder, looking at the worry-faced boy. "It's also your fault that it's opened up so much more."  
  
Harry didn't quite understand, but he could feel other things around him, not only those of the people present. Harry was quite sure he felt something disruptive near by, not to cause real harm, but-  
  
"SURPRISE!" a shrilling voice yelled behind them, causing them to duck when three heavy books flew over their heads, nearly knocking down Dumbledore's hat.  
  
"Peeves!" Draco yelled, angry that he had tried to hurt Harry, let alone even be there. "What the hell do you think you're doing here?"  
  
"Ooh, aren't we all supreme?" he asked, twisting about in the air. "The ickle-first year became a snobby seventeen-o."  
  
"Don't make me get the bloody Baron, Peeves," Dumbledore threatened. "He would surely enjoy flogging you, for having missed you the whole summer."  
  
"'Missed me' my ass," he spat, "that creep never left my side! Always being around the next corner, always watching me from the shadows-he's a freaking Stalker!" he shrieked, outraged at the way his life was going. "It's all for the birds!"  
  
"What about the bees?" came a deep voice from behind.  
  
They all turned to see, it had come from the Bloody Baron himself. Harry turned paler than what he already was, Draco seeing this and gathering him up in his arms, even against Harry's cries of protest.  
  
"Draco, what-?" Harry started, only to be interrupted by the Bloody Baron.  
  
"My, oh my, Peeves," he began in a low, cool voice, "causing trouble so early in the morning?"  
  
Peeves looked around uneasily, trying to edge away in mid air from his 'stalker'. "I haven't done anything, Baron," Peeves said, defending himself and moving back with each what would have been a heart beat. "I'm just greeting the headmaster."  
  
The baron looked around at the people present, stared a moment at Lolita before gliding his vision over Harry and Draco. "Well, then," he bowed, "may you enjoy your breakfast." Then he began hovering away, but not until he glanced one last time at Peeves, who was grimacing in dislike and nervousness. The baron stayed there a moment longer, laughed out in his low and cool voice, then disappeared through the next hanging.  
  
"Ooh, I knew I should have called that exorcist guy from that one movie," Peeves muttered to himself.  
  
"Are you talking about that muggle video with the possessed girl?" Dumbledore asked in slight amusement.  
  
"At least someone got to rest in peace!" he countered before vanishing himself.  
  
Lolita slowly rose to her feet, looking at where the Bloody Baron had floated, a frown appearing on her face. "I know exactly I'm not one to judge relationships," she said in a slightly shaky voice, "but that right there is just sick!"  
  
Harry had forgotten all about Draco's arms being around him, remembering when he was trying to get up, but with something holding him slightly bent over. "Draco, you can let go of me now," Harry said, his face tingeing rose.  
  
Draco looked down on the top of Harry's head, then hastily let go as if he had been burned. "I'm sorry, Harry," he began as he started to get up and walk over to Lolita, "really, didn't mean to do anything."  
  
Harry looked confused at him, but the color not leaving his face.  
  
Lolita cleared her throat, so as to end the disturbing silence. "Are we going to rebuild the blockage or not?" she asked impatiently.  
  
"Oh, right," Draco followed somewhat behind her, but never moving his gaze from when she held Harry's forehead to her own.  
  
"Now don't do or think anything stupid," she warned him, closing her eyes as she concentrated, "you might begin to feel somewhat dizzy, but Draco will be right behind you."  
  
Harry wasn't prepared for her face to be so close to his, blushing even more at how casual the gesture seemed to be to her. Wanting to say something as in question, his mind suddenly erased the words. His whole body was run through with an icy cold, his head aching like shards of glass splintering from within, each pulse bringing a flash of color before his eyes.  
  
"Hold steady," she commanded him, not moving one bit from the thoughts she received from linking with Harry in so much of a gap.  
  
Draco put his arms around Harry's shoulders, crossing over his chest and laid his head on Harry's neck, murmuring in the old language. Words of comfort, tenderness to ease the pain.  
  
Dumbledore watched in little more than awe, though his mouth closed, his eyes were staring with utmost amazement. 'The power of the Ancients,' he thought, not once blinking during the whole process of creating a blockage from other thoughts.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Harry was feeling himself falling, falling into a place where he was completely alone. Darkness surrounded him, the cold piercing him like crystal rain pounding down.  
  
He stumbled around in his own shadowed history, reaching for things he couldn't see.  
  
"Draco?" he called out into the blackness that showed no sign of light. "Draco?" he called out again, more fear in his voice than before.  
  
Harry ran aimlessly through the shadows, always calling out the only name that was within him, Draco.  
  
"Draco!" he screamed in despair, his throat hoarse now from the shouting. He tripped over his feet and fell on the floor, hitting his chin, a pain cursing through him. Refusing to move, he lay there, tears rolling down his cheeks, squinting his eyes closed. "He's not here," he muttered between sobs. "He'll never be here."  
  
A light came through a crack, lightening the darkness to a faded gray. Harry began feeling less pain and more peace, like he would find eternal happiness here. He was tired of running.  
  
"Harry," a gentle voice called out, red hair framing a smiling face with another frame of a person behind her.  
  
"Mother?" He began smiling.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"Hold on Harry!" Lolita yelled, nearly done with it all, concentration causing perspiration to show on both of their foreheads.  
  
"Harry!" Draco yelled, sending his own thoughts into Harry's mind. He could feel Harry slipping, wanting to end the battle he'd been fighting since he was born.  
  
"Harry, please don't leave!" he shouted, holding Harry close to him, pressing his face against his back. "Please," he whispered, the words caressing over Harry's neck. A tremble ran through Harry, showing he was reacting to gestures outside of his mind.  
  
"Harry, come back to me!" Draco said, never letting Harry go.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"Draco?" Harry turned around, as if he had heard his name being called. "Draco, is that you?" he asked, looking for any glint of his paleness.  
  
He knew he had heard his voice, moving away from the light that made him feel warm, that comforted him. He moved into the darkness, the cold that surrounded him, the ache he wanted to leave behind. But he couldn't leave Draco.  
  
"Draco!" he yelled, feeling a sudden jerk come from underneath him, as if the floor was giving away. "Draco!" he called out before falling all the way, the sudden shock overflowing him.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"Done!" she said, moving back with so much swiftness she stumbled into Dumbledore, knocking them both nearly over. "Oops, sorry!"  
  
Draco held Harry close, who was trembling all over, as if being taken over by a force unkown. His mind felt like that time his mother had died over him, that same searing pain that had caused his scar to appear there on his forehead in the first place, cursing through his body like a poison. Silent tears rolled down his cheeks, which Draco stole with quick, fleeting kisses. He was oblivious to everything around him, dazed to the very fact that his stomach rumbled its protest at still being empty.  
  
"Harry?" Draco whispered in his ear. His only reply was the familiar shiver at the gentle gesture that he loved to feel. Draco turned Harry around and tipped his head somewhat back so that he would have to look into his eyes. "Harry?" Draco felt the blankness in him, the pain it had caused him to receive such a treatment, though he knew Lolita tried doing it as gentle as she knew how. Draco couldn't stand looking at the shrouded ache within those perfect emerald eyes that reflected eternal spring and melted away the cold within him.  
  
"Draco," Harry said, though his eyes were still unfocused.  
  
Without thinking, Draco pulled him somewhat closer and brushed his lips against Harry's, feeling the quick intake of breath, allowing Draco to relax but arousing the beast within.  
  
Dumbledore helped Lolita to her feet, who was shaking all over and looked strangely pale for her complexion. "Are you alright?" he asked in a worried tone, seeing how clouded and distant her eyes were.  
  
Lolita looked up at him and smiled weakly, showing her gratitude for his support in her standing. She obviously wouldn't be able to walk very far on her own without collapsing.  
  
Harry finally came back to his senses, without thinking began to cling to Draco.  
  
"It will be alright," he cooed, gently stroking Harry's back in a comforting and motherly motion. Draco was having the hardest battle within himself, a siren going against something so dark it was hard to be called a child of god.  
  
After a moment of silent recovery, Dumbledore looked around at his three students and gestured to the doors. "I assume they should be halfway through their meal," he said, eyeing Lolita and Harry warily, both supporting each other. Draco wasn't permitted to guide them to the Gryffindor Table, seeing it would raise too many questions. But he refused to let them out of his sight, watching them like a hawk watching his prey.  
  
They all looked at one another, gave a silent nod and made their way through the oak doors to greet the rest of the School, the new day, and the beginning of change in their lives.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
A/N: So Sorry So Short, but I promise, the next chapter will be longer. I just had to get this out in the open before continuing on. So, how was it? Peeves is my favorite 'ghost' within the Harry Potter series, though sometimes definitely nerve-wracking. Well, before my mother catches me, I will have to end here, so please r/r as always and see you in two weeks! 


	6. Everquested Emeralds

Dark Temptations  
  
A/N: Alrighty then, here's to a new chapter that finally came around the stupid road block! Really sorry about the delay, but technology disagrees with me. ~_~ Still don't know why. . . oh well! I hope you're ready for this chapter, because it's going to be. . . the chapter after the last. I don't know.  
  
But I would also like to thank everyone else who's reviewed, I'm just not saying anything because I don't know what to say. . . wait. Yeah I do.  
  
SO SORRY AND THANK YOU!!!!  
  
And S.E., could you please write back? I'll explain some things later.  
  
And now, without further to do, I bring to you Chapter. . . what chapter is this anyway?  
  
+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+  
  
Chapter 6-Everquested Emeralds  
  
Walking into the Great Hall seemed like an eternal trudge past stone bricks. The previous ache still thudded in the back of Harry's head, something that seemed like a conscious rhythm only he could hear. Well, he used to be the only to hear until some people had decided to just wander into his thoughts and see what's going on.  
  
Draco still held Harry's hand, watching the boy move with an uncertainty next to him, his eyes not quite focused yet. "Harry?" Draco asked, giving his hand a squeeze and letting go, his reply a reassuring smile as they made their ways to their separate tables. No one was to know about the incident that had happened last night.  
  
Harry hadn't paid any attention to the fact that Lolita was following him, her hands covering her eyes as if she were playing peek-a-boo. Moving towards the empty seats next to Ron, he first responded when she flopped down next to him, her hair concealing her face for a moment, then swaying back slightly.  
  
He didn't see what everyone else saw, neither did he care as he was pouring them both pumpkin juice, then getting some poached eggs and crumpets spread with grape marmalade for himself, beginning to eat at a slow tempo, thinking still.  
  
"Morning Harry," Ron said in an unsure tone, worry written all over his face.  
  
Harry grunted his reply. He was thinking fast and hard, making his head pound even more.  
  
"Um," Hermione seemed uncertain about what to say. Not wanting to offend him any further than what he already was, she searched for the simplest question she could think of. "Did you sleep well Harry?"  
  
Harmless, plain, a question that made him choke on his crumpet, coughing up nothing but wind.  
  
"Harry!" Ron panicked quickly and whacked Harry smartly on the back, once, twice.  
  
He finally began spitting out some of the bread, a wild look in his eyes. He raised his head, searched, and found. He sat there, staring directly at Hermione, his expression growing from shock to anger, then blind fury.  
  
"YOU!" he exclaimed, jumping out of his seat, not taking notice of her confused expression.  
  
"Me?" Hermione asked, not understanding a single thing of what was going on. "Harry, what's wrong?" she tried reaching over the table to touch his arm.  
  
"Stay away!" he moved back quickly, as if a snake were trying to strike him, he hissed at her. A hiss that seemed so cold and full of hate that Hermione froze in that instant.  
  
She didn't move, hardly dared to breathe. Though she couldn't understand parsletounge, she figured what it meant. Easing back into her chair, she went back to eating as if nothing happened, allowing Harry to glower down upon her like a rainstorm, a rainstorm that would only bring ache.  
  
Ron, who didn't understand a single thing that was going on, not even having said anything to the new girl, all he could do was be grateful that many students had already left before Harry could arrive. The few who remained, he took note of, were those that would keep to themselves mostly. "Harry mate," Ron began, "I think you seem a little confused. Why don't you just sit down and-"  
  
Harry had never struck Ron, not even when he was being as disgusting or as dimwitted as possible. He knocked Ron's hand away, the hand that had helped him off the ground so many times, the hand that had defended him from stupid Slytherin gits. The hand of his best friend who could have been his brother.  
  
"Harry that's enough," the strange girl said, her voice clear, commanding. "You are overreacting and you need to calm down. Now finish eating and show me to my class." She sipped some of her Pumpkin juice, grimaced, then stared around and looked directly into Ron's face, glancing sideways for a moment to make sure Harry had seated himself, though he wouldn't touch any more of his food.  
  
He sat still for only a minute, felt Ron sit back down then got up himself. "Let's go," he said, turning his back on his friends, nearly knocking Neville over as he moved quickly past the school, not answering to any of the greetings some admirers threw his way.  
  
Lolita only followed, feeling slightly sick at the emotions Harry was emitting, such confusion, hurt, and a clear demand. Something he desperately needed to get rid of. Then it clicked. He was trying to get rid of the feeling to accuse someone.  
  
Her vision wavered until they entered a dark hallway. It was cool, moist, she could smell the dirt. The feeling to bury herself deep came over her for a moment, she wanted to be held by sweet healing earth. The dampness of life surrounding her, keeping her mind clear, Lolita only pictured that comforting feeling. She felt much better, then noticed that Harry did as well. There was something peaceful about him, she couldn't point it out, but it was wonderful.  
  
Harry had been angry, his mind not functioning, just the picture of Hermione's injured expression always flashing through. 'Damnit!' he thought. 'There has to be a logical reason as to why I feel this way'. He let his feet be his guide, he couldn't think properly, not even checking to see if Lolita was still behind him as he raced past curious faces, smiling, pitiful, facade faces.  
  
He finally came back to his senses when he smelled dirt, sweet, rich, comforting, calling to him. Harry had to move against the wall to hold on, the sensation to be under the surface was nearly too great for him to endure. He felt the comfort of someone else. Not Lolita, but silver eyes came to his mind as he tried to remember.  
  
Draco had followed quickly, hiding within the shadows, not wanting to run into something important, a development of Harry's own strengths. He could feel a slight probe at his mind, but didn't brush it away as he noticed that it was coming from Harry.  
  
He moved over in one swift motion, nearly causing no ripple in his clothes. Draco couldn't resist the longing Harry had to be held. He moved his arms around Harry before he had time to figure out what was happening, but he didn't pull away from the embrace. Very much, he leaned forward into Draco, taking in his scent, nuzzling his neck.  
  
"Draco," he murmured before falling asleep against him.  
  
Draco looked down at the top of Harry's head, then glanced over at Lolita, who's eyes flashed brightly, jaded. He stared, nodded, and moved away, carrying Harry to the Hospital Wing.  
  
+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+  
  
Madame Pomfrey had been down in the Greenhouses with Professor Sprout, having just returned with a bag that contained Ginger, Wolfsbane and some Peppermint, a rarity stored in the very back and private section of the Greenhouses.  
  
Moving over to arrange them, she nearly dropped all of her carefully gathered leaves, having not been prepared for a patient this early in the morning. "Mr. Malfoy! What allows you to come into-" She stopped short when she saw Harry's body in his arms.  
  
"He had a black-out," was all Draco said to explain Harry's condition. He privately would have preferred to take Harry to his rooms, but he wouldn't have been able to explain his absence and why he was in his room. An awkward position he did not want to be in.  
  
Madame Pomfrey moved over to one of the empty sickbeds, told Draco to place him there and wait for her to return. He gently placed Harry ontop of the sheets, then took a seat next to him after closing some of the shades. The morning sun was the most painful.  
  
Moments later did she come back with Professor McGonagall, who had found out over a cup of tea about what was going on, not being permitted to tell Madame or any other faculty member about what was going on. "Yes, of course Poppy, yes I understand." The nurse had been muttering about how people these days resolved their problems. Just days ago they had been enemies, now, they were helping one another out as if they had done so for years.  
  
"Mr. Malfoy", Madame Pomfrey spoke directly to him now, "if you could please explain as to why you are here and not typical Mr. Weasley or Ms. Granger".  
  
Draco's expression of inattentive thoughtfulness changed into one of a slight frown. What they could not see, Professor McGonagall could certainly sense. It was a fury hardly suppressed by what Madame Pomfrey thought was the ignorance of the youth.  
  
Before anything too hazardous could happen, McGonagall interrupted before he could start. "Since it seems that both of you will be absent from class, I suggest to get your homework from somebody. Or even better, go get them now."  
  
"But-" Draco tried to argue.  
  
"Now, Mr. Malfoy," her voice was firm, her eyes showed understanding, her mind would not change.  
  
"Yes, ma'am," he muttered in defeat, got his bag and, with one last side glance towards Harry, he left the Hospital Wing, closing the door gently behind him.  
  
+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+  
  
Lolita stood in the middle of Snape's class, taking in the looks, the smell of everybody in the room. Some odors she would have preferred not to have sensed, them making her nearly keel over with a weak stomach.  
  
"Class, we need to put Ms. -what was it?" Snape asked in a slight irritated voice.  
  
"Just call me Lolita, sir," she said, nodding her head slightly with a pleasant smile.  
  
"Of course," he said, looking away uneasily, turning himself fully towards the class.  
  
"Now," he tried to start again, "before we begin, who is willing to be Ms. Lolita's partner?"  
  
The hands raised seemed to outnumber the students in the class, or maybe just the male population.  
  
Professor Snape sighed, thinking 'What the heck!' and partnered her up with Neville.  
  
"Hello," Lolita smiled her most radiant smile that even brought the strongest of wolves to their haunches.  
  
Neville blushed a beautiful crimson, making Lolita shift slightly with the sudden urge to drink lightly if at all. "Hi," was all he managed, then he looked back down at his book, feeling the eyes of all the other guys on the room glaring at him.  
  
"What's your name?" This was fun. She was enjoying herself immensly teasing this poor boy senseless. He was so innocent, so charming, so. . . sweet. And it wasn't as if Gregori and her truly were in love, but Draco never got the real invitation to his wedding, so it didn't matter very much.  
  
He dared to look into her face, and gasped slightly but audibly.  
  
She gave him a confused expression, delighting still in guessing their thoughts instead of picking them out single-handedly.  
  
He bent slightly forward, so as not to be overheard. "Are you related to Harry?" he whispered as silent as possible.  
  
Lolita looked at him for a moment, then put her radiant smile back in place. "Whatever gives you that idea?" she asked innocently.  
  
Neville looked around, seeing if anybody was watching, which they were, but they took the scene in as a totally different manner. "Your eyes have that same spring-request in them as his do."  
  
Her smile faded. She stared at him, speechless of what to say next. Can he look into my soul? She questioned herself, daring to probe his mind. She made a quick search, but possibly one that he could feel, for Neville started swaying slightly. She could find nothing but sadness for his parents, a great respect towards his grandmother, and a low, but very deep burning for revenge.  
  
"Oh my," he said, tipping back and moving to sit in his chair before he could fall.  
  
"Is everything all right?" she asked in a worried tone, though her suspicions about him were raised.  
  
"I'm fine," he said, waving his hand in a dismissing gesture. "I think it was probably the snail- slime extract getting to me," he smiled weakly.  
  
It was true, the odor of the pale green liquid could make a person nauseous if they caught a strong whiff of it. "Are you sure you'll be alri- "  
  
She never did finish her sentence, because at that precise moment Draco stormed it, with a look of disarray about him. "Professor," he nodded, then quickly moved over to where she was standing.  
  
"Mr. Malfoy, what is the meaning of this?" Snape thundered. "How dare you walk in here in the middle of class as a tardy and start distracting students?"  
  
Draco gave him one look that told him enough, and Snape did nothing but stand there to fume in silence.  
  
"What is wrong?" she looked him directly in the eyes. And also in that moment, more than half the class noticed them as well. The jaded shine of warm sunshine upon grass only held within a single pair of eyes they had known so far. And this discovery raised questions that they would need answered before the day was over.  
  
"He might need some medicine," Draco chose his words carefully, not wanting to give away their true meaning if the hunter were truly among his fellow apprentices. 'He needs the soil, desperately,' he was nearly pleading with her.  
  
She was technically the keeper of their homeland dirt, but they called it their riches. Without it, they surely wouldn't have a chance to avoid the crossover into Nosferatu. She looked at him a moment longer, then sighed her agreement, and they both excused themselves from the professor and left to Gryffindor tower.  
  
+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+  
  
"What is wrong with him, Poppy?" McGonagall asked. This had been the second collapse in under a week that she knew of.  
  
Madame shook her head, not understanding much herself. "It is very peculiar," she muttered, "I do not see how he can have such a strain on him. It seems unreasonable."  
  
"What does?"  
  
"Why is he so exhausted?" she did have true concern in her voice if not shown in her eyes, weary eyes that have seen and healed more than most have.  
  
"What do you mean?" McGonagall didn't understand either what she was talking about.  
  
"Look here, Minerva," Madame pointed at his scar.  
  
"It seems," she couldn't explain it, but it seemed changed. Less edgy, slowly more. . . rounded.  
  
"He is absolutely worn out and I do not see how that is possible. It's as if he hadn't slept in over three days and the last time a person stayed awake for fifteen nights straight, he ended up in his grave with an unfinished composition of music."  
  
"Do you mean Mozart?" she asked with slight amazement.  
  
"The very same. Did you know his 'Eine kleine Nachtmusik' was actually finished by one of his students because the fool died in the middle of it?"  
  
"No. Really?"  
  
"Yes, but that has nothing to do with him at the moment," Madame nodded towards Harry. "What is exactly the matter with him I cannot tell, but it also seems mentally or spiritually if not physically." She went to get some parchment and a quill and started taking more notes. "Body temperature, regular," she slightly opened his eyes, "Non-dilated pupils." Madame prodded him here and there for a bit more, her parchment writing everything down that she said, and McGonagall doing her best to keep up. She had never been very good in healing and taking notes.  
  
"And you still haven't found anything too abnormal?" she asked again, rising to return to her class.  
  
"If there are any too critical changes or discoveries, you will be the first to know," she assured her, going back over to finish tending to her herbs.  
  
"Of course, and Poppy?" Minerva turned towards her one last time before taking her leave as well.  
  
"Yes, Minerva?"  
  
"Please take care of him." For a moment, Madame saw McGonagall as a grandmother who's grandson had just been injured and she was responsible for him until he was healed.  
  
She smiled, a warm understanding smile. "Of course, Minerva. Now go back to class before your students wonder what happened," she shooed McGonagall out of her Wing and went back to Harry. She looked at him some more, muttering, "What happened to you, Harry?"  
  
Being unable to reply, Harry just lay there sleeping, looking like the luckiest person you could find in this supposed hellhole.  
  
With a heavy sigh, she turned away and left the boy who wouldn't have noticed if the sky decided to turn green, like poison.  
  
It hadn't been long after Madame had gone, when Draco had moved to his bedside with a little bag, smelling fresh and rich, to see how his life was doing.  
  
An unnoticed touch, an ignored gesture of affection, Harry slept on soundly, but having no specific dreams. Draco sat and stared in silence, only lunch having just begun.  
  
He laid the little bag next to Harry's pillow, where he could clearly smell the fresh scent of the ground.  
  
"What happened, Harry?" he asked, tears slowly forming in his eyes. They were silver, like when the moon reflected in Harry's glasses in the night.  
  
~+~+~+~+~+~+~  
  
Lolita returned to class, watching as the others retreated out for their lunch. She was slightly afraid of it all, the sudden want to join and laugh with them, eat with them, with those who she would have normally feasted upon. 'Never play with your food,' her father had always told her, 'and don't become one.' Strange, that she should think of something like that at a moment such as this.  
  
Snape hadn't expected anyone to stay and begin next lesson. The only one he would have thought so nerdy would have been Ms. Granger, yet she sat there, separating her arachnid legs from the typical centipede.  
  
"Is there something wrong, Ms. Lolita?" he asked, his eyebrows raised for question.  
  
She shook her head. "No sir."  
  
"Then why do you not run along with the rest of them?"  
  
Lolita was silent. Why should she answer to this insolent snuff? Even if she really wasn't wed locked, she still would not let someone else begin to push her around.  
  
"Ms. Lolita?" Snape had never been refused an answer before. This was somewhat new. "Look at me when I am speaking to you!"  
  
She did look up, and Snape recoiled in surprise. Pure green, cold, fierce, and certainly piercing. The same look from Lily he had received when he had insulted her after her help. A look of mercy, yet full of loathing.  
  
"Yes, sir?" Lolita saw clearly.  
  
He was weak.  
  
He was weak and cold, afraid of anything and everything. But certainly not death. He would have loved it, welcomed it with open arms. He never had power, was always ridiculed by his peers, a pathetic excuse for a tough- bully Slytherin. And not even they supported him. They all laughed with the rest, always teased him, always taunted him, not once ever welcoming him. But he had a dog, something so small yet so brave. Snape had adored him, his only true friend in the world, until he had died in a fire that had started when he had left the oven on. There was no way to stop it, he was too afraid, of course he was lonely.  
  
"Enough!" he thundered, not standing that gaze anymore. Once had been enough, he didn't need to relive the experience.  
  
"I shall leave then, sir." She got up, moving slowly to the door, as if that itself were an amazing task.  
  
"Ms. Lolita," he called as her hand touched the door.  
  
"Yes sir?" Lolita didn't even bother to turn around, she smiled knowing what he would do.  
  
At first it was an awkward silence, but he finally got his wits together. "Ten points to Gryffindor."  
  
"Thank you, sir."  
  
~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~  
  
"Mr. Malfoy!" Madame Pomfrey called as she saw him sleeping in his chair, his head resting on the bed.  
  
"Draco?" Harry mumbled, his mind reeling although he was lying down.  
  
Draco immediately reacted to the sound of Harry's voice. Hearing him take in a deep breath, he looked around, joy, fear, any kind of emotion mixed within him.  
  
Lunch had long been over, but no one seemed to notice, let alone care. For Harry and Draco, it was only them in the room, the fretting Madame was a shadow in the back of their minds. But a barrier was in between them still, something that was impossible to break through, yet it seemed so fragile, easily penetrable.  
  
Harry just smiled slightly, getting up to put on his shoes and get ready for whatever class he had this period. As if he felt like thinking about it.  
  
A faint rain started to fall outside, bringing a misty look around the school, and it seemed to hide Harry from Draco.  
  
"Harry!" he suddenly called out, realizing something for the first time. If he wasn't careful, the green of Harry's eyes would never show him the way back to his other half. Like the fog, something will take him far away, and cast him down into eternal darkness once again.  
  
He held Harry's arm, held him tight and pulled him close, kissing him a promise in front of Madame. The promise to always protect his spring green and search for him when he vanishes. To never give up, and to never look back.  
  
The soil spilt slightly, but it created a slight salvation. Draco would watch the snow melt from his life, and let a single daisy bloom.  
  
~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~  
  
A/N: Remember the daisy! It's gonna be important later on. Well? How did you like it? More confusion? If so, then I'm really sorry. And I still haven't gotten around to re-write those chapters. I will try to get the next chapter up before New Years Eve, but I'm going to Egypt for a week, Cairo * YE-AH! * So it might be a while, but certainly not this long again. Promise!  
  
Merry Christmas you guys!!! 


	7. Left Hand Lies

Dark Temptations  
  
A/N: This chapter is actually up earlier than I would have thought. Oh well, joy for all of us. Hope this one gets across better than the previous ones, but if you like those as well, then that's cool, too.  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing, not even my watch (I curse the person who stole to crack every mirror they look upon for the rest of their lives).  
  
+~+~+~+~+~+~+  
  
Chapter 7- Left-hand Lies  
  
A scream, quick, unexpected, then cut short. A stab to the mind, blinding pain cursing through his body,  
  
THUMP  
  
-and a headache that would last for the next ten minutes.  
  
"Gregori!"  
  
He looked about, dazed still by the pain of having forgotten to open the lid before sitting up. "Sa-Savannah?" he mumbled, his thoughts urgent, but still too focused on the previous hurt. Hooting was coming from a tree outside of school grounds. Was she- ?  
  
"Gregori, where are you?" her voice was in a slight panic, but still soothing to his ears.  
  
"I told you I'm on a bit of a mission," he said, rising to meet the night, his body quivering as he stretched towards the ceiling. "What's wrong, my dear?"  
  
"She has awakened," Savannah sighed, tears rolling down her cheek.  
  
"She?" he was confused. Why would she call on him to tell him some girl had decided to get up at night for whatever reason. He could smell her, and it clouded his mind before he could think straight again.  
  
"Your daughter has finally awakened, Gregori."  
  
There was a howl, a change to all fours, and he left the dungeons to greet the stars and his life.  
  
+~+~+~+~+~+~+  
  
A black feather that shone blue in the moonlight fell from the shading willow, and dazzling to his sight.  
  
"Savannah," Gregori said under his breath, looking up into the tree where she sat, now in her human form. He was always amazed at how her hair shaped her face so perfectly to give a heart-shape.  
  
"Quit staring at me like that and give me a proper greeting," she said, trying to sound irritated, but not managing too well.  
  
He smiled, and his one tooth glimmered in the faint light, giving it a malicious look.  
  
"Why, my dear," he purred, drifting apart and then appearing whole again next to her, "I would never think of greeting you in anything less than affectionately."  
  
"Oh, Shut-" But she would not be able to finish the sentence for a while. As long as he was near her, she would not be able to do anything much without being held in his embrace and whispered gentle words, words that caressed her like the wind in the night. But he was just as mysterious and as captivating.  
  
+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+  
  
Harry was beneath him, unconscious, and bare. His lip was split, and his arms were scratched and covered in blood and dirt. The soil.  
  
A cross was slashed above his heart, two holes were right next to his vein- Draco could taste the sweetness of his blood in his mouth. He opened his eyes, looking about wildly, but feeling weak, and powerless.  
  
He saw himself with nothing on as well, raised above him, balancing on his elbows and knees, scared.  
  
'I didn't do this,' he kept thinking, repeating in his mind, 'I wouldn't do this to the one I love. I didn't do this, I didn't do this' "I DIDN'T DO THIS!" he screamed.  
  
The form of Harry lying underneath him so helpless made his eyes water slightly. He kept telling himself the same words, but his other side wasn't as restless as normally. It still craved for the other boy, but not to where it could get out of hand.  
  
'But where did the cross come from?' he wondered. Draco would drown himself first before he scarred Harry's perfect skin in any way. 'I couldn't do that'. This was the only thing he knew for sure, but that was all.  
  
He himself was dripping in sweat, Harry's taste in his mouth, not as restless as before, yet still needing, still wanting. He could not understand. Draco sat upright and took Harry in his arms, nuzzling the bite- mark gently, afraid it might be tender and he could hurt Harry.  
  
But Harry didn't seem to notice, or at least, not much more than what a corpse would. His scent filled Draco's nostrils, and his blood sang in respond.  
  
"Harry, please wake up," he prayed. Draco had never done that before, but he was afraid of sin, and afraid of feeling unclean. "Please wake up."  
  
Silent tears ran down his face, still holding on the other boy as if holding on to life itself. A hand brushed his tears away, and lips, cold as ice, caught his.  
  
Draco pulled back, stunned, amazed, not thinking it possible for anyone to have heard his prayer. But there they were, his spring emeralds, staring with longing and wait into his clouded silver ones.  
  
"Harry," he whispered with joy, sitting there smiling, crying for joy and fear and anger, but also just plain relief. His soul sang and lifted itself, but quickly fell down into despair.  
  
Something wasn't right with him. Harry's gaze seemed distant, as if not quite seeing him, but knowing he was there. But there was something else as well, pure and unrelenting temptation.  
  
"Harry? Are you alright?" Draco moved warily closer, touched his cheek, and his hand was caught in Harry's, who wrapped his fingers around his own.  
  
He shifted towards Draco, knowing exactly what he was doing. Draco's mind told him something was wrong, but his other side would not hear of it. Any doubt of Harry being strange from any other time was quickly dismissed, like paper being thrown into the fire.  
  
Draco lay on his back, allowing Harry to explore, and when he bent over for a kiss, pain flooded his body.  
  
Harry had pulled a knife out of his wound, and cut Draco the same as him.  
  
Nosferatu were damned in the symbol of god, and he could feel the pain of betrayal flood him like a predator attacking it's unsuspecting prey. Above his heart was the new flowing of blood, and the gash of the son, glimmering brightly as Harry began to drink away.  
  
+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+  
  
"AAAAAAAAH!"  
  
The scream that echoed through the night, that quickly cut short within the silence.  
  
"Please lay still, offspring of the bastard-son," came a squeaky and voice long acquainted with.  
  
Draco looked around, throwing off the hand that covered his mouth.  
  
"Dobby!"  
  
"And a fine evening to you as well, Draco sir."  
  
Draco sat up, looked down next to him and found the bed untouched, except for where he had dozed.  
  
Harry was gone.  
  
"Harry!" he called in panic, looking about wildly, getting ready to tear off his clothes and change to find his scent more easily.  
  
"Please, Draco sir, Master Potter is fine!" Dobby was frantic at trying to calm the carpathian down in his sudden fear for Harry and his rage at himself for having not guarded him. "He just goes to use Privy, sir!"  
  
For a moment Draco had no idea what in the world he was talking about, then heard the door creak open and find the familiar frame of a person dressed in green satin pajamas, a gift from Hermione last Christmas.  
  
Draco stood frozen, unmoving as he stared at Harry. Unmarked, untouched, still innocent and stubborn, still short-tempered yet caring, and belonging only to him.  
  
Harry nearly fell back with the sudden impact of the embrace, being only saved by the wall thankfully not the doorknob, to fall against.  
  
"Draco, what-"  
  
Draco kissed him gently, yet with a fierceness that carried more meaning and passion than any other gesture possessed.  
  
Harry's mind scattered, not expecting anything of what had happened within the first five minutes of his return. He breathed against Draco, nearly ready to fall to the floor as he blinked a few times in pure surprise and anxiety.  
  
He leaned heavily against the wall, but Draco picked him up off the ground and carried him back to his bed in the Hospital Wing, where Dobby had left a pitcher with cool water and some scones with soft butter.  
  
'So that's why the little creep came here', he thought in wonder, still holding Harry close.  
  
"Draco, what the bloody hell is wrong with you?" Harry hissed, not wanting to cause any more turmoil than the previous shout.  
  
He looked down, having not noticed how Harry had been struggling to reprieve himself from the tight embrace.  
  
"Sorry," Draco muttered, loosening his arms around him, but still having a firm hold. He couldn't look at Harry directly, out of nervousness or distress, he did not know.  
  
Harry squirmed a distance away as to where he could properly breath, and reached for a scone as a distraction.  
  
"It's not like I'm going anywhere, you know," he said, looking at Draco pointedly. "Is that what's got you so worked up?"  
  
Draco still couldn't look directly into his eyes, afraid that his dream could possibly have been true. And no use checking the bite mark, sure enough it would be gone by now.  
  
"I'm just somewhat edgy, 'tis all."  
  
" 'Tis?" Harry asked, question and wonder in his voice. "Since when do you speak with old English? 'tis?" he meant to tease.  
  
"Uh," how should Draco know?  
  
" 'Uh'. That sounds more modern," Harry couldn't help himself to be sarcastic and gently poked Draco in the stomach.  
  
He squeaked.  
  
Both the boys looked at each other in surprise then started laughing.  
  
"Good grief, Malfoy," he said, going back to previous terms of acquaintance, "is it permitted in your family to show any kind of sign of giddiness?" he asked in mock curiosity.  
  
"Why, my dear mister Potter," he said with dripping sarcasm, "would you expect anything less than a knowledge in each field of freaky entertainment and reaction?"  
  
Harry acted as though he were seriously considering the matter.  
  
"No, I guess not," he concluded, shaking his head slightly. "I suppose everyone shows their fruitier side at times."  
  
"I beg your pardon!" Draco said, in jeer outrage. He held Harry closer and nuzzled his neck, which always sent shivers through Harry.  
  
Harry looked him directly in the eyes, and for the first time truly noticed what they reflected.  
  
Besides the stars, they hid a wildness inside them that excited him somewhat, but also scared him. Draco was truly untamed, though he didn't show it very often.  
  
Mesmerizing, appealing, Harry was too lost in his eyes to notice the moonlight shining across their forms, making them shimmer each time they moved. His hair blended in perfectly with the paleness, where his obviously contrasted, bringing him out. His eyes were also out of place and he suddenly felt hideous against Draco.  
  
"Never!" Draco cried, catching Harry's lips once more, a tug somewhat within his kiss this time. "You will never be anything but beautiful, Harry," his words caressed him, like the leaves whenever the wind made them twirl against his face when he sat under a tree. "Radiant, magnificent, ravishing, and mine, all mine." He meant for the ending to sound funny from a movie clip he'd heard a couple of times.  
  
"You describe me like some kind of beauty queen model or something," he said, blushing distinctly against their forms.  
  
"No. Prince, my heart, prince." And there was truth in Draco's voice, of what he had felt, of what he has been feeling for the longest time imaginable. Quick crushes were one thing, but never compare to what he truly holds within him.  
  
Tears shimmered in Harry's eyes, running down his cheek towards his trembling chin. He didn't want to cry in front of Draco, not like this. But he couldn't help it. There was no stopping it now.  
  
"Oh no," he sobbed, and he couldn't stop. 'I am such a pansy', he cursed, 'a damn sissy for all I care.'  
  
Draco tilted Harry's head towards him and he licked the tears off his face, savoring the taste of him, the smell of his gentle humiliation, and his true fighting nature.  
  
"You are not weak," he whispered, kissing him, caressing him, lulling him back to sleep.  
  
"You are strong, far more than I. And-" Draco didn't mean to admit it yet, not truly because of what had happened in their short moments. But he couldn't help it. In Harry's most fragile moment, he had to show something to comfort him, to prove he had something to lean against.  
  
"And I love you, Harry Potter."  
  
Harry held his breath, and looked into his face once more, captivated by his elegance. "As I do you," he admitted as well.  
  
+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+  
  
The new day finally dawned, and everybody was fascinated with their newest arrival, who seemed to be going to a funeral and had a serious narcoleptic problem. But since she was out of the ordinary, she was warmly welcomed.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
It had only been that morning when Gregori had called on Dumbledore to confess a bit of a tale that he and Lolita had made up to conceive the hunters in the area. That Savannah was truly his soulmate, but Lolita still Princess of Darkness at the moment.  
  
"Mikhail convinced me that as one of the ancients we would have to do some sneaking about, but Savannah found out through Raven," he explained, Lolita just standing by, being silent.  
  
"Savannah has to be with me now," he said, looking at her in pure adoration.  
  
"I'm sorry if I've caused too much trouble," she said, truly sounding full of regret.  
  
"Of course," Dumbledore said, still not knowing how she would introduce her. ~*~*~*~*~  
  
But here he stood, still having no idea and looking at the faculty table, truly was clueless until a 2nd year Hufflepuff passed by, talking of how Madame Pomfrey still hadn't finished the herb-solution for her burnt- off hair.  
  
"My dear students," he called, beaming all around, as usual. To show nothing out of the ordinary, he smiled mostly at the banners to avoid looking into foolish eyes, some piercing, other loathing, then those of adoration, but all filled with respect.  
  
"We have a new person to invite to our school," he declared, lowering his hand towards Savannah.  
  
"This is our new assistant in the Hospital Wing," he said, hoping she would notice he was talking about her, "Lady Savannah!"  
  
There was a booming applause from the students, a few of the boys whistled while some girls inspected her if she would be a threat.  
  
But she did raise her head and smile, her eyes flashing brilliantly under the nettish material of her veil. 'Why do I have to where these ridiculous clothes?' she asked Gregori, who sat at the other end of the table.  
  
'The better you look, my dear,' he laughed, making her shoot death glares in his direction, the icy blades of loathing meant only for him at the moment, though she would have a chat with Mikhail whenever they returned home.  
  
'I curse you, Gregori', she hissed in her mind, hearing the fading laughter as he got the message and started looking at the pictures on the walls, most without their owners now.  
  
'It seems everyone has gone a trip to gossip,' he said amusingly, careful to avoid looking her in the eyes. He knew he could regret it later on in life.  
  
She looked away, rolled her eyes, and decided she would excuse herself to go sleep some more. "Headmaster, sir," she said in a pleasant tone, though her face showed some serious strain.  
  
"Yes?" he blinked up at her, not knowing for sure if she could be as old as his grandmother as well. Or older.  
  
She took a deep breath, all her strength to not drop dead on the floor, literally. "I think I shall go lay down for a bit more," she said carefully, the need to sleep coming on more urgently. 'Just say yes,' she pleaded silently in her mind, 'please say I can go to bed'.  
  
At first Dumbledore looked a little taken back with the question, hadn't expected to be asked permission first to go to sleep. Maybe she was younger than him, so she had to respect him as an elder. Or maybe its because she SEEMED young that she respected him out of habit. But whatever the reason, he could tell she wouldn't last for much longer.  
  
"Of course," he smiled, after what seemed like an eternity. She nodded her thanks and left, Gregori excusing himself to accompany her as well. Everyone looked after her as she moved through the Great Hall to the doors, her waist-long hair shimmering in the candlelight. The day had been cloudy and dark all morning.  
  
"If you please, Headmaster," he also said with regard towards an older gentleman.  
  
Dumbledore nodded his consent and Gregori hurried out of the hall as well.  
  
Many eyes followed both figures to the door, some even daring to rise out of their seat a little just to see what had happened.  
  
Gryffindor and Slytherin both missed some very important people. The fact that both were absent was only noticed by Hermione and Ron, though Neville also perceived Lolita gone as well.  
  
"Do you think they could have gotten in a fight?" Ron whispered to Hermione, his hands already in tight fists so that his knuckles seemed white.  
  
She laid her hand over his, trying to calm him. "He'll be fine," she answered, praying she was right. 'I beg you to protect Harry,' she thought, insignificantly to no one in particular.  
  
Neville sighed, looking down at his empty plate, and accepted Deans' offer to return with him to the common room for their next class.  
  
"We'll be along in a moment," Hermione called after him, drinking the rest of her pumpkin juice.  
  
"It's just not normal," Ron finally said, sitting in absolute silence for so long she slightly sputtered.  
  
"Wha-what isn't?" she asked, but already guessing the answer.  
  
"Both missing at the same time, Hermes. He would normally tell me if something is going on between them." Ron had no idea how twisted the meaning of his words could become.  
  
Though she stiffened slightly at the word 'Hermes' she had repeatedly told them not to say, Hermione nearly started laughing at the separate things he could mean.  
  
"Why are you grinning like that?" he asked suspiciously, his left brow raised.  
  
Making up a quick excuse, she remembered he conversation with Lavender the day before. "I was just thinking of the fact that Lavender actually did have a crush on Harry once."  
  
Ron just blinked, his blue eyes truly lost for words. ". . . What does that have to do with anything?"  
  
"Nothing, to be honest," she said, waving her hand in a dismissing gesture, "only that she was just as paranoid whenever she didn't see him within the next five minutes of when classes began. Oh dear, I still have to get my parchment rolls and return a book to the library," Hermione said in a rush, leaving the table in a hurry.  
  
"See you at lunch then," she said, leaving a confused Ron behind.  
  
It took him a moment to remember their schedules were different now, but also the fact that he was even more lost with his thoughts than before. How could she always scatter his mind so intricately?  
  
"Women," he muttered under his breath as he finished his Pumpkin juice and left for classes as well.  
  
+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+  
  
She slammed her fists against the mirror, crying at her reflection.  
  
"Why can't you just leave them alone?" she screamed, tearing at her hair, tears streaming down her face.  
  
"You know exactly why!" she yelled back, disgusted at the way she was so pathetic and weak. "Don't you care anymore?" she asked, trying a different approach at the matter.  
  
She huddled on the floor, under the sink, shaking with fear and rage. "You know I do," she managed to say in between sobs. "You know I can't forget."  
  
"Then why do you insist on letting them live?" She meant to sound soothing, but it came out in a snarl. "The longer they exist, the more humans will end up like them, seeking revenge like us! Don't you see? There is not turning back now!"  
  
She shook her head, not wanting to accept the truth or falsehood of it all. "But they're my friends!"  
  
A slap across the face, confusing about how it was possible, yet there it was, the unmistakable pain of a hand hardened by raw hate.  
  
"Despicable," she breathed, her chest heaving with suppressed frustration. "Do you dare forget why I came? Why I even bothered to show up after your pathetic summoning?" Her temper began to rise with each word passing through her lips, her eyes changing to little slits. "Do you know what kept me here after all of the failed attempts to kill him?"  
  
She hung her head again, tears flowing freely, without end. "I was just angry that day," she said, hoping this demon would leave her in peace.  
  
But no.  
  
"You make me sick, do you know that?" she spat at her.  
  
She just sat there, thinking, ' I figured as much after your continual tantrums with me,' but didn't dare say anything.  
  
"Why don't you just leave then?" Maybe she would. Maybe that's all she had to say.  
  
Another slap across the face. "Idiot," she hissed. "I stay, because you still have anger in your soul. I stay, because I want revenge as well. I stay," she got up and looked in the mirror, "because I have to taste for blood in me."  
  
A monster. Was she just as sick and warped in the mind as they were? But they didn't even seem so horrible compared to her. No, it was just her that was as sick. Just here that truly kept the flame burning within.  
  
'I could have forgotten so long ago,' she thought. 'I was happy with them, and they were always nice. So why can't I leave them in peace?'  
  
"Are you thinking about backing out on me?" she asked, her brow arched and eyes suspicious. "Do you want to forget this whole idea? Is that what you're thinking about?"  
  
She was scared. She didn't know what to do. 'She could kill me,' she thought in panic, then knowing that couldn't happen. 'Because she would vanish herself.'  
  
But maybe she could put them both out of their misery. Maybe she could release them from the eternal pain that has haunted them both. She looked up at the mirror as well, then slammed her fist against it, making the glass shatter, cracking her reflection, showing a bit of the true side.  
  
It rained all around her feet, and she had always found the rain soothing. But this rain brought ache, and it would probably not end there. No, it never ended where she hoped it would.  
  
"That was pretty stupid? Did you know that?" she saw the blood dripping, rolling her eyes at how little people think sometimes. "If you want to die," she continued, walking over to rinse the hand with cold water and poured salt over it from her pocket, which burned horribly and made her flinch. "If you truly want to die," she repeated, "then just tell me so and I will make it true."  
  
She whispered a spell and it healed her hand completely, just some red tints of where the blood had ran.  
  
She stared ahead, thinking it so creepy as she said what she had been thinking. 'Do I want to die?' she asked herself, not really wanting to know the answer. Maybe yes, maybe not at all. Or maybe she wanted her to just go away. But to do that, one of them would have to die. 'Damnit!'  
  
"Just remember," she whispered gently, smiling a smile known to bring more pain and torment than she had ever wished for, "I am the one who saved you, I am the one who released you from your dull excitement with that hag."  
  
"Wait a minute,Gr-" how dare she say that about her? When she was the one who had practically raised her. 'How dare she?' Tears of anger burned her eyes, vehemence even. 'Damn you,' she cursed, 'damn you to the hottest pit in hell.'  
  
She had put a finger above her mouth to stop her from interrupting. " And I am the one who will make sure you get what you deserve." There was that smile again. The same one that got her to agree in the first place.  
  
She stood there in silence, finally making a decision for everyone. It was her fault things were like this now, it was her responsibility.  
  
"Tell me what to do."  
  
Her brown eyes flashed with joy, and her plan could finally begin.  
  
"Check."  
  
+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+  
  
A/N: Don't worry, it's not lesbians at the end. I won't explain much either, just think 'Lord of the Rings' and you might figure it out. And since we're so long in the story, you guys can start guessing who it is. Just remember that saying, "never judge a book by it's cover," because that could seriously describe these 'people'. Yep. Well, until next time! And remember, R/R so I can keep this thing going! 


	8. PreviewUno Killer

Dark Temptations  
  
A/N: Notice how I somehow keep returning to Uno? I don't know why, but whatever. Jeez, just scare me to death there for a moment, why don't you?  
  
Disclaimer: It belongs to me not, so go bite something.  
  
~+~  
  
Chapter 8 – Uno Killer  
  
~+~  
  
Foresee a shadow in the night.  
  
It shimmers in the moon's beauty light.  
  
If it comes into my room,  
  
Will it bring me joy or doom?  
  
~+~  
  
Morning. The sunlight streamed into the hospital wing, falling over the bed both Draco and Harry occupied. Or only Harry occupied.  
  
Draco had smelled the tickling warmth that comes every morning with each sunrise, awakening all that had been asleep, just as Harry was beginning to stir and rose, hair uncombed, eyes shiny and still filled with sleep. And vision as normal as a person may have it, with the only difference that a headache was beginning to form in his mind.  
  
'Again?' Nothing weird had happened for it to have returned, only that he had woken to find only himself in his bed. Had it been a dream? But if it had been, then the bed wouldn't still be warm where a recent Draco had occupied it.  
  
~+~  
  
A/N: Thank you, Toby7 for warning me, so this is just the beginning of what this next chapter is. Please be patient, I promise I am doing my best on finishing this thing, but even if I don't want to, I have to put my family in front of this for now.  
  
Love you guys,  
  
~Lythtis 


	9. Uno Killer

Dark Temptations  
  
A/N: Well, here is the official chapter for all of those who have been faithfully waiting. Me re-reading all of your reviews made me remember this, I can't put it of for forever. So I am posting it now, though a little shorter than normally, Sorry about that. But I promise the next chapter will be longer, and this time I will post up sooner! I promise, or else you can send me thousands and thousands of hate letters!!  
  
Oh, and this chapter also gives some background info about how Malfoys became the outcast and about Draco's older brother, having been mentioned in the first chapter.  
  
Disclaimer: It belongs to me not, so go bite something.  
  
P.S.: I just found out what 'lemon' means on stories here. My poor virgin eyes, my mind, I skipped half of the paragraphs. They were too visual. . . my innocent thoughts, oh dear. And I'm only so old. Why me???  
  
~+~  
  
Chapter 8 – Uno Killer  
  
~+~  
  
Foresee a shadow in the night.  
  
It shimmers in the moon's beauty light.  
  
If it comes into my room,  
  
Will it bring me joy or doom?  
  
~+~  
  
Morning. The sunlight streamed into the hospital wing, falling over the bed both Draco and Harry occupied. Or only Harry occupied.  
  
Draco had smelled the tickling warmth that comes every morning with each sunrise, awakening all that had been asleep, just as Harry was beginning to stir and rose, hair uncombed, eyes shiny and still filled with sleep. And vision as normal as a person may have it, with the only difference that a headache was beginning to form in his mind.  
  
'Again?' Nothing weird had happened for it to have returned, only that he had woken to find only himself in his bed. Had it been a dream? But if it had been, then the bed wouldn't still be warm where a recent Draco had occupied it.  
  
With that knowledge a void slowly began appearing in his soul, causing him to hurt deeply on the inside. "Draco," he whispered out into the loneliness surrounding him, pulled up the covers, and cried in silence.  
  
~+~  
  
Draco had run away during the nigh. Feeling Harry's warmth and being able to smell him brought back what he thought had been banned out of him for all eternity. But it had returned with a hunger to drink deep and without a hope for its victim. The monster that was part of him; the beast that hid within his other half. The creature that was part of his soul and would either destroy Harry, or bring salvation to both of them.  
  
"You're pathetic, do you know that?" she asked somewhere nearby.  
  
"What do you want, Savannah?" Draco asked mentally, not being able to move his jaw under the packed ground. He heard that irritating giggling of a little girl keeping a secret for a reply. He had met her only a couple of times and was introduced to him as Gregori's plaything. But yet here she was, talking to him as if she'd done it for ages.  
  
"You should know very well a carpathian can't stay away too long without going haywire without their soulmate being nearby," she said in that matter-of-fact tone that reminded him so much of Hermione.  
  
She didn't just say what he thought she did, did she? "Did you say soulmate?" he couldn't keep the suspicion out of his 'voice'. He lay still for a moment, being able to feel something very different about her then when he had last seen her.  
  
He sensed her rolling his eyes at him. "Duh. You can't expect me to stay sane by being a whole half continent away from Gregori. If he hasn't been feeling weird until now, I might as well go into retirement. Honestly, how dense can you sometimes be, Draco?"  
  
Draco was stunned. He truly didn't know what to say as a reply. "But Gregori had said that him and Lolita where soulmates."  
  
Now it was Savannah's turn to be shocked. "No, Gregori is my soulmate. If him and Lolita truly WHERE soulmates, then one of them would have been dead long ago. You know exactly how hard it is for them to get along without supervision from somebody."  
  
He could feel that she was telling the truth. So it was Gregori and Lolita who had been lying to him. But why? "How high is the sun, Savannah?" He needed some questions answered as soon as possible.  
  
"Well, it's almost sunrise," she said from what sounded a great distance, "and I'm starting to feel Morpheus sing to me. I'm going to retire to my chambers now and leave you to think and rest in peace now. Good night."  
  
With that she left him alone under the ground now, deep in thought. He knew that they had come because of some hunter loose on the grounds. They were afraid he wasn't strong enough to take him on his own. And what if he had back up? But that still was no excuse for this stratagem they had began building around him. He had the right to know what was going on, and he would use them to the limit. He would find out, even if he had to go and talk to Mikhail in person, he would know what was going on.  
  
~+~  
  
"Harry?"  
  
He turned away from the voice, afraid of whom it could be. Maybe he was overreacting, but without Draco nearby, he felt very much helpless.  
  
'Helpless?' he asked himself, starting to laugh in his mind. 'Since when is the great Harry Potter anywhere near being helpless?'  
  
He thought about it, truly not finding anything he had done without the guidance of someone else, but he had never been 'helpless'. Nor would he be helpless now.  
  
"Harry, are you still sleeping?" the girl prodded him in his side, causing him to jump up. "Oh good, you are awake." She smiled at him.  
  
At first he thought Lolita had grown overnight, but it seemed that she was different from her. This person seemed gentler, more compassionate than Lolita. Her face was rounded and heart-shaped, and instead of bringing a vibrance to her image, her hair fell to give it an even more childlike complexion. He slightly blushed at her motherliness.  
  
She noticed him staring at her awkwardly and got up a little shaky and introduced herself. "I am Savannah," she curtsied. This made him avert his eyes in another direction, or anywhere but meeting her gaze. It was steady, determined, and held the wildness he has seen in only one person. But unlike Draco, she was obviously exhausted.  
  
"How do you know me?" he couldn't think of anything else to ask, but that question was even more ridiculous than the regarded silence between them.  
  
She smiled, lighting her face up in a miraculous way he just sat in awe.  
  
~+~  
  
"Gregori!"  
  
Draco hurried through the dungeons, heading straight to the room most dared not even look at. He had questions and wanted answers now. Passing by the other students, he didn't notice how quickly they moved out of his way, his fury making him oblivious of the world.  
  
Gregori felt him coming, but didn't bother to think of any kind of excuse. He should have thought ahead as soon as Savannah had come. It was too late now.  
  
Draco slammed the door open, barely even touching it to make its impact against the wall ear splitting. "What is the meaning of this, old man?" he asked as calm as he could manage.  
  
Gregori looked him in the eyes, wondering if he should try and search out Lolita from her classes. He sat in his chair, cool and calm. "Please clarify your barging in on me like this."  
  
Draco stared at him, keeping every last nerve he had tightly under his overblown ego and image he had to uphold. "I mean," he began through gritted teeth, "what was your reason for lying to me?"  
  
He sat completely still, allowing Draco's anger and frustration to wash over him. "What reason do I have for being honest with you?" he shot back coolly. Gregori didn't always have to be nice; he could be just as cold and as mean. "Don't forget, it was a Malfoy that abandoned the clan and nearly allowed our king and queen to die, nearly ending the line of carpathian. You may not know any of this, but that does not change your line of heritage. What guarantees us the fact that you will not do the same?"  
  
"Excuse me?" Draco's temper had been rising, but what did he mean by doing the same?  
  
"Your father," Gregori sighed, rubbing his brow, "left our clan long before Voldemort of course. But after he met Narcissa, he slowly began to change. I was a good friend of his, and he was very kind as well. Though he always did have a slight need for power, he never craved after it like he does now. Tormenting innocent humans for fun, destroying souls, making them lose their minds. Lucius became cold and dead like the snow, very much the blood-killing beast we hunt. Luther was not so."  
  
Draco stood there, his mind spinning slightly. "So," he asked slowly, not sure if he wanted to know the answer or not, "what really happened to Luther?"  
  
Gregori inhaled, having not expected that question. "I would originally say it is not my place to tell you, but I highly doubt you will receive an honest answer from your father. Very well, I shall tell you. But you may want to sit."  
  
A chair appeared from behind the door and Draco sat cautiously down, his frustrations having died away into a curiosity and slight fear.  
  
"Luther, like yourself, was also stubborn and a hot head." Draco didn't know if that was a compliment or an insult, but he kept quiet all the same, though frowning slightly. "He was a lady killer and a heartbreaker as well, but he never hurt anyone. He also know when to stop his drinking, so his deeds and actions weren't held for serious. Narcissa, a cold woman, had expected him to be cruel, somehow like her. I'm sure you've heard of the sirens in Greek mythologies."  
  
Draco nodded, wondering how much of his life could end up being a lie. "They sang a song that brought sailors to their death. Or else they called out towards the sailors as the person they loved the most."  
  
"Yes, that's all the niceties and whatnot, but you know the part of them luring men to their doom. She had called out from her lonely beach as Lucius had been sailing underneath the deck in secret among the cargo. The crew sailed over to her island, thinking her a helpless woman in need obviously. He had not been among the ones to leave, but soon the rats that had snuck on board were dry as a leaf, and he was becoming ravenous. Tea?" Gregori asked, feeling parched and wanting something to drink.  
  
"No thank you," Draco answered, eager to hear the rest of the story. "So, when did my father finally come out?" he asked, having waited patiently for him to stir in the sugar and honey that had appeared on his desk as well.  
  
Gregori took a sip, then leaned back thoughtfully, having a slight Dumbledore image about him. "I think it took him about two weeks to figure out the ship wasn't leaving anytime soon, so he finally decided to go on the upper deck and find out what was going on that night. He saw her sitting alone under a tree, the only thing that offered any kind of shade on her little beach. What also noticed the random body parts of the crew laying around her, bones and bloodied sand around her feet." Gregori sighed again, looked as though he was about to stop, but continued onward.  
  
"That should have been a warning to him that this woman was no good, and he should have formed into a Seagull and taken off. But no, he had to go and talk to her, ask her what she had been thinking and already he was suckered into that vixens' grasp. But what she didn't know is that he wasn't human. So that made her attempt to eat him a little difficult, but instead, they both somehow 'fell in love' with each other as they gazed into each other's eyes. It was pathetic, I tell you that much."  
  
"But how come you know what happened?" Draco asked, wondering if Gregori had been spying on him or something.  
  
"Very simple," he said, taking another sip. "Lucius told me the story repeatedly after he came back home. I almost killed him myself after the twenty-seventh description of how her eyes had sparkled that night compared to the moon."  
  
Draco just sat in silence, thinking about what he had heard. "But, what does any of this have to do with Luther?"  
  
Gregori's aged eyes fell upon the ignorant youth's face, then he almost seemed sad. "Life works in mysterious ways," was all he answered, then placed him empty cup on top of his table, leaning back in content. "Luther," he began carefully, "wasn't your mother's son."  
  
"Explain please," Draco tried making sense of this. Not his blood?  
  
"Oh no, you are his blood yes, but not your mother's," Gregori read the question appear in his mind, "which was very confusing. Somehow, he was connected to Lucius, though none of us know for sure how. Narcissa had raised him as her own, but there was one problem."  
  
"Which was?"  
  
"He didn't have the need nor want to kill. He was kind, as I told you before. And exactly this is the reason he was exposed to the light."  
  
What?  
  
"Your mother killed Luther, there's no other way to explain it. Or at least, she thought she had." Gregori smiled that odd smiled, like a cat knowing something but no matter how much you beg, it will never tell you. "And another thing that is similar between you two is how you picked your mates."  
  
Draco was fixing to leave, feeling betrayed of course, but never such an utter loneliness as before. He and his mother of course never had a strong connection, but that lied to him most of his life was something he would have to get used to. Especially all of the other things that didn't make sense until a bit of a clarification came. He slowly turned around to look at Gregori, feeling as if his strength had been drained from him. "How are we similar?"  
  
Gregori coughed once, clearing his throat. "It's true, you are the first to have a male for a love, but if you know one unruly person with spring-green eyes and raven dark hair, then you might have seen them all."  
  
"Aren't all carpathian women black-haired?"  
  
"But not green-eyed. See if he knows of anyone in his family having ever been removed."  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?"  
  
"Nothing." He grinned at Draco, "but you might be surprised."  
  
~+~  
  
Please don't hate me for making it not as long as usual, but I really wanted to post it, and I thought 'Hey, this could be a spiffy ending,' so I ended it here. I warned you guys I would end it here. And also really sorry if it seemed sort of boring, but I had to get this out as well. Also, I want at least SEVEN reviews before I post the next chapter, so I'm thinking this should take some time. ^.^  
  
And if you want some people to appear in this story, please E-MAIL me, so I can see what I can do. But I am turning down any requests for some kind of lemon fic. That just totally corrupted me today, I am so sorry, but it's the truth. I am still underage, and pretty naïve I admit, so don't even think about it! That was just too graphic. . . I will never be the same again. Anyhoo, happy living and send in those requests, suggestions, flamers, reviews, whatever is on your mind! 


	10. Rock, Paper, Fire

Dark Temptations  
  
A/N: Thank you all for your reviews, but I curse you BioHazrdusMatrial3 (not really, don't worry! .) It's all your fault I'm back here again! You had to be the seventh reviewer, and I was enjoying my time off . . . oh well. Since I'm back, I guess I'll have to start writing again. And I added a little bit of . . . not really graphic but . . . you find out yourselves. Good reading!  
  
Disclaimer: Seen 'em once, seen 'em twice, still nothing has changed. I have no ownership and I probably never will be.  
  
And this is starting in the Great Hall, DURING the time of Draco's and Gregori's exchange of words. Sorry, but this has to be in here to help clear some confusion to be. I really don't mean to make it confusing! Sorry!  
  
Chapter 9- Rock, Paper, Fire  
  
Hermione and Ron had been walking back up to the common room, hand in hand for the first time. It wasn't official of their relationship, and even they still had doubts once in a while. But it didn't mean they couldn't show their affection for each other once in a while.  
  
Their silence was caused by another reason, though. Should they go visit Harry?  
  
"You know", Ron said, interrupting the crushing stillness in the halls this morning, "lots of weird things have been happening lately."  
  
"Haven't you gotten used to that yet?" she snapped unwillingly at him. Hermione was deep in thought and was getting more anxious with each passing moment.  
  
"Sorry," Ron muttered after he recovered from that little shock. Allowing Hermione to pass in front of him to enter the common room, Ron followed even more unprepared for what was to happen next.  
  
A mind-splitting scream filling the whole common room. And it seemed to last for an eternity.  
  
At first no one moved, let alone dared to breathe. Then slowly, the sound of rushing air and footsteps of those having recovered faster rushing to the source of the sound.  
  
The boys' bathroom, shower room to be precise. On the floor of the Seventh Years.  
  
Seamus was the first to enter to see the horrific scenery. "What the hell?"  
  
Dean huddled on the floor, surrounded in fragments of what seemed like glass. Others soon followed, but none passed by him. Ron finally pushed his way to the front to see what was happening. "Oh, bloody hell."  
  
Mirror shards covered the floor, reflecting the thousands of candles shining along the wall, illuminating everything a thousand-fold. Each mirror in the bathroom was broken, shattered into thousands of little crystals scattered over the marble tiles. Deans' hands were covered in blood, the skin scratched up. He was sobbing non-stop, and didn't even react when Seamus slowly walked in slowly, trying to avoid stepping on any more glass to create even smaller pieces.  
  
It wasn't until he walked in, Ron noticed Neville curled up in the corner where the shards didn't quite reach. He went over to him and reached out his hand, offering Neville a support at this moment.  
  
Neville stared at his hand, then looked him in the face, his own strangely emotionless. His cheeks were tear-streaked, the only sign of him having noticed what had happened. But once he took it, a light began to glow in them.  
  
Hermione and some other girls repaired the mirrors with their magic, while the guys cleaned up the mess, everyone working in silence, not wanting to speak any more.  
  
Seamus and Collin helped Dean up to the Hospital Wing, Ron grateful that Collin had gotten over his continuous addiction to snapping photos of everything that could ruin one's position in social life.  
  
Harry sat on the bed, a little bit more relaxed now, though still tired. 'Savannah', he repeated in his mind, 'Savannah. That's a nice name', he concluded, smiling a little.  
  
"So, who exactly are you?" he asked, not knowing for sure how to start.  
  
"Well," she said thoughtfully, "to begin with, I am soulmate to your professor Gregori. I just came here, because I missed him so much." She fidgeted with her hands, looking downwards for a change. Her form swayed a little from side to side.  
  
"Please, please sit down," Harry said, noticing how she threatened to faint.  
  
She gratefully flopped down onto the soft-feathered mattress, making it bounce slightly with the additional weight. "I'm sorry for intruding," she said, struggling to stay awake. "I just had to talk to you for a moment."  
  
"It's okay. Really, I don't mind your company at all." Harry didn't know how to help her, and was a afraid of finding out as well.  
  
Savannah sighed, not quite so uneasy as before. "It was so unbearably lonely without him, you know."  
  
"Pardon?"  
  
She stared him in the eyes again, with that look that seemed to penetrate through all, just to peek into your very being. "You become restless, continuously worrying about whether or not he's alright. If he's eating well, taking regular showers, the typical stuff."  
  
"Um," Harry was at a loss for words, "what exactly are you talking about, Savannah?"  
  
Savannah looked away, blinking frantically to keep something back. To hide a feeling he wasn't allowed to see. "Please," she whispered, shivering with the rising sun, "please, if you don't love him, then stop what is in motion."  
  
He looked at her in amazement, 'Stop what is in motion?' Harry had no idea what she was talking about, but if- "What exactly are you talking about?"  
  
Her breathing became labored, sweat drops began appearing on her forehead. "Please, Harry, if all this is just some game of wooing and doting, then stop. Deny your love, deny anything you ever felt for him." Savannah grabbed his hand, her vision fading in and out. "For your sake and his own, if it is true and pure, then disregard my words. But please," she looked him once more in the eyes, "if it's puppy love, end it now."  
  
She fell to her side, sound asleep on his bed, Harry even more scared than before.  
  
'What was she talking about?' he looked around for some kind of help, but to no avail. Madame was no where in sight, and her medicaments all seemed unattended to since last night.  
  
Harry sighed, wriggling his hand free of Savannah's without disturbing her slumber. He closed the curtains to darken the room, still not too for sure how much sunlight they can take. Her dark clothing must make the warmth of the sun duplicate itself at least, causing her to get warmer even faster. Harry went to the other side of the bed, gathering his clothes to go change and come back to figure out what to do next.  
  
He gently closed the door behind him, feeling very disordered and doubtful about his new relation with Draco. Having gone at a steady pace down the hall, people would have wondered why he would suddenly break down in the middle of the corridor. 'What am I going to do?'  
  
Draco stalked out of the room, confused even more now. For the first time, he truly felt like he held no love within him for his parents, least of all his mother. The person he should be able to trust the most, and she seemed so treacherous now. His father he could not even begin to describe.  
  
In truth, he had never felt this way before, so doubtful and forlorn. For the first time, he felt like a lost child, terrified and alone, prepared to crumble and forsake all he had ever been. For the first time, he felt human. And he hated this feeling.  
  
'What should I do now?' he asked into the quiet of the morning. Classes had barely begun, breakfast just ending, and he could care less for either. Though his stomach rumbled, he finally decided to take a trip up to Hospital Wing to check upon Harry and see if he was doing any better.  
  
"Draco!" Lolita jogged up to him, panting slightly when she had caught up. "Draco! There's something I need you to test!"  
  
"What?" she was the last person he had wanted to see at the moment, still infuriated at her having lied to him. Her, of all his relatives. "What do you want, Lita?"  
  
She looked at him reproachfully. "Don't talk to me in that tone of voice, Draco."  
  
"Oh? And how should I talk to you?" he wanted to do everything possible in his power to piss her off at the moment, no matter if her news was important or not.  
  
Lolita wanted to glare at him so desperately, but if she started that battle, they probably wouldn't talk with each other for the rest of the week. "Draco, would you quit being such a bastard and listen to me!"  
  
"Why should I?"  
  
"Because I need your help, that's why!" He heard this sentence pass through Lolita's lips, but there was an undefined echo behind it that seemed too deep to belong to a girl. Of course, this repeat belonged to their favorite poltergeist.  
  
"Peeves!" Draco exclaimed, also having not expected him.  
  
"Shh! Not so loud, you imbecilic monkey-faced Blondie!" he whispered fiercely at him.  
  
"What the hell is your problem, Peeves?" Lolita asked him, allowing herself her most menacing glare.  
  
Peeves slightly drifted back, but then quickly advanced to be behind them. "That is my problem, you homicidal wanton. Hell is after me!"  
  
Lolita stared at his remark towards her for a moment, regained her composure, and smiled. "Homicidal-wanton?"  
  
"Yeah, so what?" Peeves looked frantically around him, continuously bobbing up and down in the air.  
  
On his second trip down, Lolita's fist made contact with his jaw, an audible crack clearly rang through that part of the hallway for a few moments.  
  
"Homicidal wanton?" she repeated at him, her body shaking with suppressed rage, ready to burst any moment. "How dare you, a mere nuisance unable to reach heaven OR hell, address me as such? HOMICIDAL WANTON?"  
  
She had vice 1grip on his collar, making his escape impossible. Peeves could tell that his next choice of words would decide his fate.  
  
Draco had gone slightly pale at her sudden fury, surprised that such a little insult could bring forth-such anger. 'Maybe it's that time of year again,' he mused, feeling sorry for Peeves for having crossed her path today.  
  
"Hey, sweetheart, darling," he tried sweet talking her, "I once had a girl like you. Very ill tempered, had a lot of death-threats in store for me. She's actually the reason I'm like this today."  
  
"U-huh." Lolita nodded, still smiling that scary smile betraying any kind of annoyance she felt towards him.  
  
"Well, I always had a little saying for her that cheered her up immensely. I think it would do you a good deal as well. How about it?"  
  
Lolita's expression softened for a moment, in a thoughtful or surprising manner. But she immediately placed that terrifying grin back upon her face and nodded her consent. "Please, Peeves, I would love to hear it."  
  
Perspiration showed on his forehead, but he tried to smile as well, hoping he would survive. "Alrighty then," he cleared his throat.  
  
"Oh, my dearest song-bird. Hold me close in your soft wings and lull me to sleep with your sweet melody. Make it, so that I may dream of this reality. And may reality dream of me, in it's most beautiful times. You are my candle that guides me through the darkest hours of eve, and I am your warmth in cold winter nights. May I be the breeze that surrounds you in your dreams, and you my sun, which I follow to worlds' end."  
  
Lolita looked at him in wonder, bewildered that this mean and disgusting minion could create something so dazzling, so charming. She let him fall to the ground, and moved back, still looking at him. Then she fell over laughing.  
  
Draco just stood there, wrinkling his nose and trying to figure if maybe this was a dream? It would explain some things he'd prefer not to be part of reality, but a Peeves with romantic poetry? This was becoming too much for him to handle. Only he had not found out the source of Lolita's laughter until he looked up a little. Then, he too, collapsed in absolute mirth.  
  
"What?" Peeves was turning red, blushing actually, and Lolita would recall this as a true 'Kodak Moment' like in the muggle magazines she'd read. "What the hell is so freaking funny?!"  
  
He felt a hand grasp his shoulder in a gentle touch, a cool and cruel voice trying to sound . . . nice for a change. "Nothing was funny, Peeves."  
  
Peeves nearly jumped out of his would-be skin and turned around to only come face-to-face with the Bloody Baron. "WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM?"  
  
"Nothing at all," the Baron shook his head, "your poem was just absolutely astounding, that's all." He smiled.  
  
"IS EVERYBODY GOING MAD HERE?" Peeves began to feel frantic again, hyperventilate to be more specific.  
  
"You seem to misunderstand me completely, Peeves darling," the Baron purred, making it sound more like an affectionate growl, causing Peeves to scream and fly through the next wall.  
  
Lolita and Draco were still on the floor, twitching and gasping for air.  
  
"I wish he would just lose it completely already," the Baron sighed, looking at the place where Peeves made his quick exit. "This is getting extremely tiring."  
  
Before either had enough air to question him, the Baron also made haste for a portrait of a former warlock professor.  
  
Draco was the first to recover, wiping his tears and still panting. He looked around, finding the corridor generally deserted except for Lolita and himself.  
  
"Well", she said after she'd calmed down and made her way to her feet by holding on to the wall, "that was entertaining, I believe."  
  
"I think I should be going now," Draco also found his footage and began to walk away.  
  
"Wait! I still need your help." Lolita held his wrist before he could take another step.  
  
"What do you need me so desperately for?" He pulled his arm free and was about to continue on to the Hospital Wing.  
  
Lolita stood there, began biting her thumb. "I", she stumbled on her words, trying to figure out how to express herself. "I really, really do need your help, Draco."  
  
He turned to face her, a scowl in place again. "And why?"  
  
"Well", her face began coloring from it's usual paleness to a cheeky rose. "I can't tell you."  
  
Draco stood there, sighed, deciding he might need her to do a favor for him later on. "Damn you, but what flipping ding-dong do you want from me?"  
  
Lolita smiled at him, unshed tears shimmering in her eyes. "I won't thank you yet, Draco dearest." She grinned, rubbed her eyes and told him to meet her in the library after lunch. "I am supposed to be in Transfiguration anyway, so until later then." Lolita stood there, facing him a moment longer, then couldn't resist giving him a quick embrace. Just to show her appreciation.  
  
Draco watched her back retreating down the opposite way, and decided he had better hurry to Harry and go to classes.  
  
The problem was that Harry wasn't to be found in his former bed, now occupied by a dreaming Savannah. Nor was Madame Pomfrey anywhere in sight.  
  
"Harry?" Draco called through the empty infirmary, wondering where he would have gone. "Harry!"  
  
Finally concluding it a waste to call out his name, he made a quick mind-search to find out where he was. Sighing in relief, he found him in the showers on the fourth floor. 'Maybe I should go check up on him', Draco thought, wondering if he could still keep himself under control.  
  
'Nah, leave that for another time', he grinned, turning around to see Savannah lying in bed asleep. He also noticed the blinds having been drawn to block out excess sunlight into the room. He sniffed once, scenting Harry having tucked the blankets around Savannah's resting form and having shaded the room. His scent was everywhere, making Draco's mind spin in delight.  
  
Heading towards the doors, Draco was almost his upside the head with one as it opened in a rush of footsteps and bodies passing through. "What the-"  
  
"Madame Pomfrey!" Collin was helping Seamus support Dean's weight, just as Ron came in with Neville looking very shaken.  
  
Draco had moved into the shadows quick enough to go unnoticed, but curiosity kept him rooted to the spot.  
  
"MADAME POMFREY!" Ron yelled as loud as he could, looking around for any sign of her being present. But there was no movement anywhere.  
  
"Savannah," Draco mind-thought, standing as still as though a statue, maybe even a part of the wall. "Savannah, wake up."  
  
"Mhm?" She turned, shifted, and moved towards the edge of the bed, resulting in her falling out and hitting the marble-floor bum-first. "Ow!"  
  
Ron had sat Neville down in the chair closest to the medicine cabinet and paced the room. "Who's there?" he called out, pulling his wand from his sleeve, preparing himself for any kind of hex aimed his way. Collin and Seamus stayed behind with Neville.  
  
"Hello!" Savannah popped around the corner as if having expected company any minute now. Her cheeriness made them all pull back a little, or the ones conscious enough to do so. "What seems to be the problem?"  
  
Draco was having a hard-time trying not to laugh out loud. She was being too bubbly for his liking. This was a total façade as far as he was concerned, but seemed to fit her perfectly.  
  
"Um", Ron tried looking for his voice, thinking of a reply, "well, we were looking for Madame Pomfrey and," he looked around for something, or rather someone. "Uh, where's Harry?"  
  
"I'm sorry?" she was entertaining herself too much and Draco could tell.  
  
"Harry Potter?" Ron put his wand away, but was still suspicious about her, "You know, boy with scare on his forehead."  
  
"Oh! There were about three boys I've seen with some kind of mark or the other rather on their forehead, but I think it was the result of serious Quidditch Practice." She grinned quite openly, like a cat keeping her secrets.  
  
Before Ron could question her any further, he heard Dean moan in pain and shook his head, remembering the lateral. "Could you please help our friend? He's been wounded pretty badly, though we have managed to stop most of the bleeding."  
  
Savannah looked around him, and saw Dean standing there, his body trembling in ache that wouldn't stop. They bandaged his hand with an old shirt, though it was thoroughly bled through. Her eyes glazed over, hunger consuming her in one heartbeat, two. The only thing keeping her under strict control now was the knowledge that this was a child, uneducated in any kind of serious defense against any kind of evil. But she was hungry, and that couldn't be denied.  
  
The boys looked at her in worry, wondering why she just stood there looking at his hand in . . . desire. "Are you alright?" Seamus asked, wanting to help his friend, but there was something not normal about her.  
  
Savannah was startled out of her thoughts, back to reality. "Yes, yes of course. I'm terribly sorry." She moved over to where Madame had told her remedies and other plant cures were. "What kind of an accident caused it?"  
  
"Well," Collin finally decided to speak up, though his voice had yet to crack, "he has lots of cuts. Yep, that's the way you could put it."  
  
Draco decided he had found out enough to satisfy his nosiness at the moment and went to see how Harry was doing.  
  
But he still couldn't figure where in the world Madame could have gone. But it seemed that Savannah knew, so he could question her later.   
  
Harry stood under the showerhead, allowing the heat of the water to embrace him. He felt like the hotter it became, the more probable it would be that these bad feelings would go away.  
  
Not even a week had passed and so much has happened. From nemesis to possible lover, cursed by a witch he doesn't even know, under protection and having another ability he hadn't known about. Heir to Slytherin and some psychic Warlock probably as well.  
  
"Dammit!" he slammed his fist against the tiled wall. The impact hurt his fist for only a moment, a moment he could care less about. He leaned his forehead against the coolness of the rock. "This is insane", he muttered under his breath, "why the hell is it always me?"  
  
He kneeled down in the tub, allowing the water to slowly fill it up and poured some bubble formula in. Peasblossom, a sickeningly sweet scent.  
  
Harry let himself sink even further into the porcelain bowl, shivering at the different temperatures of cold and hot.  
  
Though he closed his eyes for a moment, it seemed an eternity had passed. The water had lost some of its suds, though the water was still comfortingly heated. What wasn't familiar was the sensing of someone else being present.  
  
"Who's there?" Harry turned around, making bubbles fly. "I know someone's here!"  
  
Draco stood in the corner, holding himself tightly. He had wanted to just see Harry for a moment, but he hadn't expected to be hit with such a strong urge of lust. It ached desperately, his beast roaring at him with need of release. 'Dammit, dammit, DAMMIT!' he swore fervently in his mind.  
  
"Hello?" Harry began to rise, reaching for a towel. If only he knew a wolf were in the room with him. A very dangerous wolf with only very little restraint remaining.  
  
Just the delicate sight of Harry's frame made Draco growl in the back of his throat. Not loud, but clear enough for Harry to estimate in which direction to go. 'Please', he begged silently, 'please don't come any closer'. He was one of the youngest to find his mate so fast, and his restraint was very limited. He has reached his edge. 'You'll be sorry', he thought in slight amusement at his longing, 'please go back. One step closer and-'  
  
"Hello?" Harry stood in front of him now, still holding on to the towel around his waist, looking in every direction possible for someone to hide. Only these bathrooms had only curtains, a painting, and a cupboard, nothing more.  
  
'And we're both going to regret it'. Draco snapped. In an instant, he moved out of the shadows and had Harry pinned down to the ground, barely having time to raise a cry of surprise before Draco had his lips in a possessive kiss.  
  
"Draco!" Harry managed after he had freed himself from the kiss, but was scared by what he saw in his eyes. Need, lust, and a plea for release.  
  
"Oh shit."  
  
A/N: Damn, don't you just hate me now? The end came too soon probably. But hey. And it gets confusing when you're writing this, rewriting 'Romeo and Juliet' Act V, and watching 'League of Extraordinary Gentlemen'. But it's fun, though! You should try it sometime. And this time I want FIFTEEN REVIEWS before I post the next chapter. Therefore, I should have a month worth of relaxation . . . or however long it takes me to plot the next chapter. Anyway, until next time! (tomorrow's fieldtrip to a Roller-coaster park! YAY!) 


	11. Explanations of Previous

Dark Temptations  
  
A/N: This is the summary/explanation of everything that people have been curious about, or else haven't read any of the Dark Series yet.  
  
And strangely enough, half of the reviews sent in where anonymous (is still grateful that you guys like it, though). Is there a conspiracy going on against me?** takes on godfather position** I being part of the IMC (international Mafia Connection-just for fun) am allowed to do so, so HAH!  
  
Anyway, this is going to be a general summary for those who are absolutely senselessly confused at this point. For those who know, you can skip ahead or just read this to clarify some things up. Hope this helps!  
  
This is all based on Christine Feehan's books, (regretfully for me, book) about Carpathians and Vampires and so on.  
  
To put it simple, Draco is a carpathian. Carpathians are what vampires used to be (all according to her, man she's so cool!). They are technically still human in some ways, though not completely immune to the sunlight. The oldest among them are called 'Ancients' (such as Gregori) and they avoid becoming a Vampire by finding their soul mate (an explanation of vampires follows at the bottom). Normally they have an estimated time period of 200 years before they begin to lose their senses for the natural, so they become color-blind and are emotionless.  
  
Preferably their mates are born within this bloodline, for if a Carpathian bonds to a human, um, there is no guarantee that their human will survive the, uh, "bondage". Yes, because during the "ritual", they bite and drink each other's blood and they say this chant that officially bonds them to that person. Humans are "fragile" and it may be too much for them to handle. And, well, they recognize their mate in the manner for when they see them, all their senses gradually return. And it's almost like a whole Vampire-veela thing, only vampires have a completely different meaning.  
  
Vampires are the bloodthirsty monsters that enjoy killing. I like to say that when they kill it makes them feel warm and fuzzy inside, like their allowed to die themselves. But some Vampires are just absolutely perverse, and I mean this in the corrupted manner, not the other way.  
  
This is also a difference between the Carpathian and the Vampire. A vampire kills for the pleasure of it, a carpathian isn't allowed to do so unless in EXTREME emergencies. But sometimes a vampire tries to steal the lifemate of another carpathian, even after they have been judged by Mikhail (Mikhail Dubrinsky is the Prince of the Carpathians; yeah, Royalty among these guys DOES exist).  
  
Some of you guys are also confused about how Draco can move around the way he does so much, right? Well, for example in Annette Curtis Clause's book "The Silver Kiss" it describes how Simon (who slightly resembles Draco in this fic . ) has the ability to transform himself into a sort of fog, just thousands of little molecules with thought alone keeping them from drifting apart. That Idea is sort of scary, but it would be wicked cool if someone could actually have that much ability and self-control.  
  
A little quick background on Ancients, well . . . they're ancient. They are among the oldest of Carpathians, and their also who you would most likely hear about in those stories of lore (for them, of course) and when you see him you're either thinking "Dude! He's so cool!", "Man, he's scary" or "Dang, he's hot." Well, least likely that last one, but I couldn't resist.  
  
Gregori: Like hell you couldn't.  
  
Lyth: Bite me!  
  
Gregori: Really?  
  
Lyth: Never mind.  
  
Gregori: Thought so.  
  
Lyth: Grrr . . .  
  
Anyway, Lolita is a random character I put in here. She is Mikhail's daughter, therefore Princess of the Carpathians, but she doesn't recognize it as her title. Typical of a royal teen, isn't it? To just hang with the commoners, only she could care less about love at the moment. She has her own mission, which is . . . something you will have to find out later. Lalala.  
  
I think I have answered all the questions that you guys had been curios about, and if there is anything else that needs to be answered, corrected, criticized or just announced, then I will do so right here.

A/N: I'm re-writing the 10th chapter, so it'll vanish until some time later. Sorry!

Have a great summer, guys!

Lythtis


	12. Heathen Prayers

  
  
**Dark Temptations**  
  
**A/N:** Hello, my beloved friends on ! How's life been this summer? Don't ask why, but I'm glad I'm back! And with a lightning-inspiration as well! Be as you go!  
  
**Disclaimer:** Must we really go through this procedure again? Just look at previous readings, alright?  
  
And it goes down the path of confusion, sorry about that! But it must be so if to be worth the while!  
  
And certain people, (out of friendship I leave you unnamed) should now be satisfied and **back off!  
**

* * *

**Chapter 10-Heathen Prayers  
**  
It was pure torment. Draco tried to kill his conscience before it could get worse, only to have the smell of decay choke him dead-on.  
  
His mind hadn't been functioning properly, only thoughts of events and games that pass through couples had occupied him all the while having melted in with the shadows. There was a moment of frozen time between him and Harry. But this wasn't Harry.  
  
Draco pinned the body down underneath him, doing his best to try and re-collect his thoughts of the last few seconds that had passed. Shamefully admitting to himself that he had been a peeping Tom, he stared down at what was surrounded by mist, a fetid smelling vapor that gagged him even as he held his breath. He had missed the sudden tension in Harry's body before he wasn't him anymore. The exchange of places of two bodies, from molecules and solidity had been done so quickly it had only appeared as a sudden shimmer covering Harry. But even though Draco had limited experience with such, the smell was undeniable.  
  
Vampire was grinning up at him, a malicious frown on its face. "Well, has little hunter wanna-be finally caught up to date?" he asked, his smile blackened by blood.  
  
Draco bared his incisors at him, his suppressed rage and frustration causing his body to tremble. "Where is Harry?" he asked, restraints slowly failing as the demon beast seared his insides, craving the kill of the undead, who dare try to defile his mate by touch. By mere sight alone.  
  
Only as the Vampire laughed, his teeth glimmering in the faint candlelight did Draco notice that they glimmered silver. Had he . . .?  
  
It dropped the illusion of Harry, taking on its own putrid form. Its skin seemed mottled, blackened in patches as if with a lighter. It was gray, and its nails seemed slightly detached, pointed, disgusting. Its eyes were pure black, cold, walking death inside. Every time it breathed in, its skin seemed to only rest upon its bones, its breathing sounding rattled, hollow, pointless even. The very sight of it proved it inhuman. "If you drink the boy's blood until none is left, then you would be very welcome to join us", it said, turning it's head a little to get a better focus on Draco. "Secretly, you know you can't control it."  
  
Draco felt stained just by touching him, his gut clenching in sheer denial. He had no idea his eyes had started to turn red, his face becoming a mask of anger still compressed. He could NOT let the beast control his tempers. But allowing it some freedom, his hand left its right arm, only to lock around its throat in a vice-like grip.  
  
The vampire struggled, began choking, having not expected such strength from an adolescent Carpathian, a mere child compared to his age-long experience, who had gained still little control over his power. And then, if possible, it blanched.  
  
Draco could smell the sudden fear on it, smiled a chilling grimace that held no amusement, only pleasure in noticed discomfort. "And who's afraid now, old revered?" he asked, his voice a murderous satin.  
  
It spat in his face, the saliva alone burning. "Despicable," it said, whispering a spell under his mind.  
  
Draco had only caught a glimpse of his moving lips. "Bastard!" he yelled, breaking its windpipes and going for his heart with once he released its now broken neck. He plunged his fist deep, ripping out the rotted organ and tossing it a distance away, summoning a blue flame into his hand and hurtling it at the twitching thing.  
  
As the vampire died its scream rang off the bathroom walls for minutes long after it disintegrated.  
  
When the silence settled in, Draco felt Gregori appear behind him, his long dark hair braided today. Heh.  
  
Gregori silently swore as he came up behind Draco, looking at what little was left of the Vampire.  
  
"Draco," he began, only to be cut off at the sight of his crimson eyes. "Draco, calm down!" he commanded, tapping into the full power of an ancient. He could not take the chance of Draco turning.  
  
"Where is Harry?" he asked, shutting his eyes to try and pick up his scent over the smell of burning souls. "Where is he?"  
  
"Draco, you would only scare him in the present state of mind", Gregori tried reasoning with him, warily keeping an eye on him. He was young, true, but he still held immense power for his age. Power almost equaling that of a half-ancient. But he shouldn't be surprised, he chided himself, because he was also different for having reached the stage of being emotionless quite soon as well, "think about it".  
  
Draco ignored his words, becoming more agitated when he wasn't able to pick up Harry's scent. "Where is he?" he asked again, his body bristling with small surges of power.  
  
Gregori tried reaching out to him again, but his hand was truck away. "I'll tell you, if you calm down!" he was doing his best to try and reason with him, not wanting Draco to do something he might regret.  
  
The turmoil within Draco vibrated through his body, making him tremble with effort. He needed blood, needed it painfully so, just as he needed to know Harry was safe from the vampires. Breathing in slowly, his anger began to evaporate, just as his eyes went back to their usual gray. He dared to look at Gregori again, calm and almost back to his normal self.  
  
"Please", he said, not really liking the way the word rolled off his tongue. "I'm worried and you know how badly I need to see him. It's exactly as if I were to hide Savannah from you, so tell me where Harry is." He bit back to word 'lifemate', not sure with himself anymore.  
  
He had almost submitted himself to the stain on his soul, the raging evil that demanded release more so as the days passed. Draco was afraid of hearing the rejection in Harry's voice if he asked, talked about it. He should be able to have more power over it than he possessed, but everything about him, even in the life of a carpathian was unnatural from what it should be. But could he blame his mother for that part? Sirens were born to be tempting, exotic, to lure men to their doom. They were possibly the equivalent of a Vampire, but though they held a soul, their emotions for caring were limited.  
  
But because of this, it was also possible for him and Harry to meet in the first place.  
  
Gregori had been watching him closely, though not worrying too much. He jumped when Draco finally spoke to him after the moment of silence.  
  
"Tell me where he is", he said, killing off his doubts immediately. Harry was _his_ and he would be all right.

* * *

**A/N:** You like? Short, I know, but my hours are getting incredibly short for unsaid reasons, so they will be short, but next one not as short. Sorry! 


	13. Breaking Points

**_Dark Temptations_**

**A/N:** Well, I'm in an okay mood I think, sitting here with Alanis' Jagged Little Pill to help me here. See? No distractions! . . . for a change. Pshaw.

**Disclaimer:** What do you think? If I were the owner, I wouldn't be here, now would I? I would be wasting my money in a Borders Bookstore, drowning in anime, music, homework, etc. So logically, I'm not the owner. I only own Lolita, and the mysterious voice, and the atmosphere, and the deranged personalities. . . wait, nope, I don't own those either. My friends do, though, so that's okay.

Oh, and this starts where we left off with Ron, I guess, or something along those lines.

If confusion is increased, then I immensely apologize! Mostly because I am, too!

* * *

**_Chapter 12 –Breaking Points_**

* * *

Lolita stood there against the walls of the greenhouse they were located in today, watching both Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs take notes on the Adam's tulip. She was savoring the sweet smell of dirt all around her. It enveloped her like a summer's breeze, cooling her as well as warming her at the same time. Moments like these were rare to her, this peace, this close connection to nature. Being stuck inside Transfiguration had been her greatest bore yet.

"And to conclude our lesson today, I shall have each of you take a seed and plant it anywhere within Greenhouse number 3 for you mid-term exams," Professor Sprout stated, watching some cheer and the other sigh in disgust.

Gratefully lunch was about to be served, and no one was willing to miss a single minute of it. Lolita watched them help each other clean up, so they could all arrive on time and for once in peace.

Only Ron still seemed troubled. He and Seamus had arrived late, but Hermione gave Professor Sprout the reason to why they would be absent at the beginning of class. Something about a traumatized Dean and Neville. They both had moved to their usual seats in silence, Ron with Hermione, Seamus alone in his desk today, no one bothering to ask questions for a change. The must be getting used to it, she thought in amusement.

She stalked over to him, swaying slightly with her steps, having enjoyed the smell of earth here too much. "What's with you today?" she asked casually.

Ron just grunted, fussing around with a leaf that kept wriggling every time he touched it with the tip of his quill. "Something's not right", he muttered, still looking down at the leaf squirm and twitch in delight or pain, it wasn't very obvious which.

"What is that?" Hermione asked him as she leaned in closer, looking down at the wiggling creation, her face slightly cringed in distaste.

"No clue." Ron sighed and continued to mess with whatever it was even after everyone else had left.

Hermione shook his arm gently, trying to get his attention back to reality. "Let's go Ron, we're going to miss lunch." He didn't respond right away and she was getting impatient. "Please, let's leave."

Lolita didn't want to intrude on their thoughts anymore, having gained their trust and friendship she respected their privacy, no matter how tempting. But there were others whose conscience would allow them to be sneaky. People such as-

"If you're in such a hurry to eat, then why don't you just go already?" Ron snapped at her, irritated for some reason neither of them knew.

Hermione was hurt. Deeply in fact. Ron had never snapped at her, and she was still aching from where Harry had hissed at as if she were something vile, evil, not the loving friend he had known for so long. "Fine", she said, her eyes shimmering with the threat of tears. "If you want to stay here and mope all day, be my guest." She shifted her bag to rest in a more comfortable position on her shoulder and walked past without once looking back.

"Hell's teeth", Ron swore, now looking up as the greenhouse door slammed shut behind Hermione.

Lolita stood, facing the door as well. "You know, you were sort of unfair towards her," she said, rocking on her heels slightly.

"Aren't you going to yell at me, too?" he said, his feelings changing from moping to self-pity.

"You were unfair towards her," she agreed, turning her head to look at him.

Ron had flicked the leaf onto the floor, where it squirmed even more, as if frying. "I can't ever truly say the right things to her", he admitted, slowly gathering his belongings to leave as well.

Lolita felt a little sorry for their relationship. She had never truly thought about a lifemate, someone to share the rest of whenever with. But their time was limited, they didn't have the option of living as long as her. And she felt sorry for them. "You know," she began thoughtfully, "it's sometimes best to talk with each other, even if it is an argument."

Ron snorted. "And what do you propose? I've always somehow been distant from her, even if I do love her." He slapped his hands to his mouth, having not meant to say that out loud.

Lolita raised an eyebrow. "So you do admit it?" she challenged him.

He stayed silent, his better conscience fighting with his pride. The quietness finally got to him and he nodded his head in defeat.

"And why can't you just tell her that?" Lolita turned to face him now, her green eyes swirling into a dark blue-green until finally it settled into some midnight Prussian.

Ron couldn't look her in the face, still not understanding his emotions. "She", he started, then cut himself off. He thought of how to say it, tried putting into sensible words. "She is the most important person to me alive. But I can't tell her, at least not yet."

She sighed, listening to them talk. This was so sweet, so romantic, yet so mushy she could smack herself; if only he knew the truth. But then there was always Dean. And Dean was more comforting than Ron, but Ron had a closer connection with Harry.

Lolita didn't feel her presence, hadn't expected anyone as a matter of fact. But she did hear her sigh out. "Who's there?" she said, wanting to jump over to the door to lower the possibility of the intruder to run, but she stopped in mid-leap. They didn't know about her yet, about the difference between her and them, and they weren't going to find out. Not if she could help it.

Taking on a quick pace, she easily sprinted across, dodging random vines and branches that shifted to be in her way. Reaching the door, she found only the lawn, the butterflies, the sound of the birds calling and water splashing from the lake. No sneak, no spy, no one.

Ron had gotten up and walked up behind her, curious as to what she had seen. "Is something out there?"

"I don't know," her eyes continuously shifted from one direction to the other. "I thought I heard something, but I must have been dreaming." She turned and went to gather her stuff, Ron holding the door open for her so both of them could leave together.

"I could write a letter," he suddenly said, just out of thought probably.

"What?" Lolita hadn't paid him much attention after the previous little incident, her trying to seek out if someone had truly been listening into their conversation.

"I was thinking", Ron said, looking at the ground move past him with each step, "maybe I could write her a letter and you could give it to her?"

How often had someone admitted his or her affection through ink and parchment? Lolita thought of how Shakespeare began this whole message-carrying thing, thinking he did leave more of an impression besides most of the English words and plays of modern times. She grinned, proud that for once his ego didn't get in the way of matters of the heart. "You know Ron, I think she would like that."

The windows of Hogwarts seemed darker than usual, even though the sun was at its brightest point today. Within these castle walls, an additional number was to come and additional trouble as well. Lots more trouble. But allow them the tranquility of the moment. The calm before the storm.

They watched the castle, the entrance wide open shift closer each second. But to distract, she agreed with him, trying to hide any trace of worry.

" I think she would truly like that."

* * *

"What. . . what happened?"

Harry's mind buzzed with the rapidness of having been knocked down by Draco. He was still winded from when he somehow got moved without realizing it. Only moments after having been underneath his weight a searing pain coursed through his body. A tingling feeling ran through his muscles, as though his skin had been contorted, making it seem like it wasn't his own, only to fit back into its original state once the chill swept over him.

His eyes were shut tight, the towel thankfully still in place, for the cold of the marble tiles under his stomach contrasted cruelly with the previous warmth of the bath. It hurt to move, but Harry had to know where he was. Every cell in his mind screamed for him to lay down, gravity having decided to increase by a tenfold. Turning his head to lay on his cheek instead of his chin, he slowly peeked out from between slits, once again grateful for not needing glasses anymore. A slight throbbing began, coming from around the scar.

The light was dim, close to being non-existent. But a hazy glow emanated from somewhere deep inside the chamber he was in, allowing him to see a bit of his surroundings in the poor light. It seemed strangely familiar as he shifted his weight onto his elbows, pushing up to try and stand.

His muscles feeling like putty and his legs threatening to give way, Harry decided it best if he just use the gloomy illumination if not use his hands to find a safe path towards the walls and stand there.

The chill in the air seemed to thicken as he moved closer to the direction he guessed would be the wall, his sight becoming hazy. It seemed a tiresome task alone to find the other side of the room, barely making out the shapes to his left that seemed like stalls.

. . . Stalls?

At that moment the atmosphere truly did shift molecules to create was seemed like a thick blanket that Harry had to inhale, his breathing becoming labored. The air became thready, heavy, threatening to suffocate him, to fill his lungs and his mind, push out thoughts and life, stay until no more could fit and then allow him to slowly suffer. He was losing consciousness until a seedy voice called out to him, for him.

"Children should not be here in the air of death," it cooed, the voice soothing yet terrifying all at once.

Harry finally hit his head on marble as his fingers dug into little gutters encircling a pillar in the middle. He hit himself again as he lifted his head, having to crawl back to look up properly. It was a sink he had hit his head on, sinks with pipes connecting all to the marble. It didn't seem like it was speaking English, yet he perfectly understood every single syllable passing through supposed invisible lips. Weird, where had-

"It can become very dangerous," it continued, no more than a whisper, making the air seem it moved with the different pitches, up and down, thicker, then thinner, "if one is left alone, or is lonely."

'Who are you?' he tried to talk, but as he held on to the sink for support, all he managed was a croak. His throat was dry, a familiar ache slowly throbbing on his forehead.

There was a long moment of silence, the only sound was a far-off dripping and Harry's struggles for air. "You are lonely, aren't you?" it concluded, the voice texture becoming silky, alluring, making it seem more feminine, "A lonely heart is easy to corrupt, and in one such as yourself . . . ," the voice faded, not finishing it's sentence.

Harry wanted to tell it he wasn't lonely, that he was loved and wanted by . . . by whom? His headache became worse, trying to remember that face. His lips moved as if to talk, but no sound came. He couldn't recognize that face! He knew it had caressed his skin, tasted his very being; he knew it had whispered gentle things, promises, had told him that he loved him, that he was loved.

That he wasn't alone. But no matter how hard Harry tried, he couldn't remember.

"Maybe," the voice liked to play with the first word, as if emphasizing hope, "it isn't as real as it seems, as if in a dream. You can't remember, yet you swear you are wanted. Possibly not for love, but just for satisfaction. Doesn't it hurt, not to be truly desired?"

The air seemed to crush his already struggling lungs, making his chest heave with effort, his body ready to collapse and give into gravity's force. 'Did it read minds?' he wondered, knowing it couldn't have heard him speak. 'Who was it that I had such a connection with?' His mouth and throat parched, it seemed that everything around him was trying to push his awareness, his memories of someone into the back of his mind. The harder he tried to remember, the more it seemed his headache grew.

But now that he thought about it, he was alone, and it did hurt. When he cried out at night as fear consumed him, when he fell and needed a hand to help him back to his feet, when the darkness had encircled him and he couldn't find a light. No one came. Nobody was around. The silver-blue guide had faded into the shadows.

Maybe he was alone. His entire being trembled as reality struck him in the face.

"Perhaps", the way it said 'perhaps' reminded Harry of a satin river, gentle ripples no matter how big the splash, "I can help ease it, help lessen the pain."

The voice left it hanging, as if waiting for Harry to reply, as if they had all the time to consider it. 'Too bad I don't have all time for myself', he thought bitterly, wondering why this voice was talking of helping.

He finally managed to swallow, the air lifting its pressure to allow him to moisten his cracked lips, to gain his proper footing without the chance of falling. "How. . .?" that was all he could muster before needing to swallow again. "How can . . . you . . .?" Harry didn't bother to finish, guessing the voice would understand his question.

Harry couldn't see it, but his sense told him that whatever he had been conversing with smiled, its eyes flashing pure malice.

"Just give yourself to the night, Harry." The voice caressed his name, enveloped him in a satin web of promises, hopes, blocking out the possible lies.

He shook his head, his good sense telling him that this was evil what he was dealing with, that he should not succumb. Harry wondered if it was that simple, to just leave everything to the shadows and darkness of the night. The night was very secretive as he learned and she kept her children hidden well. Could it truly be that easy? Even as he had these inner conflicts, he still needed to know. "What . . . must I. . . ?" His strength always faded before he could fully embody his question. But he needn't to.

He could swear he heard faint laughter, a sinister yet mysterious melody, enticing his thoughts yet scaring him shitless. "Release me," it stated simply, its tone turning into an alluring dark, like bittersweet chocolate.

Harry was confused, not understanding until he looked down. The air he had been breathing felt as if it had manifested itself inside him, taking control of him. Something inside made him look down, only to be fighting with another pleading him to keep his eyes upward. But of course having to give in to curiosity at the marking, he stooped lower, the air only now a shimmering fog, making the chamber recognizable.

Before the whispering hiss could pass his lips, a shrill voice called out his name. "Harry! Harry Potter! Here you are!"

Harry heard a splash and quickly turned around, his heart slamming, his hand clutching the towel that had loosened itself around his small hips and needed to be re-tucked. As his eyes focused, he saw the ghostly silhouette of a girl with big glasses, a devious smile on her face, though her eyes held concern.

"Myrtle", he breathed, his heartbeat slowing down to a less painful rate. It might have been his imagination as a supposed growl hovered in the air, but it too, diminished.

She glowed, it seemed, easily brightening the chamber he was in. "Sneaking into the girls' bathroom again, are we?" she asked, giggling as if keeping a mischievous secret. "Come to see a certain ghost, perhaps? And even stripped down to a towel, I see?" she eyed him with amazement, stunned that he would even dare THINK about coming here like THAT. 'Dang, he's gotten hotter since last time' she thought, trying to burn this picture of him into her memory.

"What?" Harry had no idea what she was talking about.

"You're in the girl's bathroom where we first met!" she exclaimed happily, as if he'd remembered some kind of anniversary including her and himself.

To prove the fact, he bent down towards the pipe he had been looking at, searching for that little mark that had enthralled him only moments ago. And there it faintly shimmered.

A single snake on the pipe. This truly was the bathroom that led to Salazar Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets.

The pain on his forehead throbbed once more, making it feel like his mind would split in two. Then, amazingly, it subsided just as quickly as it had come.

"Are you alright?" she asked, unsure of what she should do next. "Everyone has been looking for you, you know. That dozing Mermaid from the bathroom told me so, and I asked a couple of portraits if they had seen you, but they all said the same thing, 'Nope, not today'."

He shook his head a couple times to try and clear his thoughts. "Who was looking for me?" he asked skeptically, the silk that had stroked his heart, encircling his soul, was now gone, replaced by a curious burning sensation, like drops of acid trying to multiply within his being.

"The new professor and Draco." Myrtle continued to hover in front of him, not really trusting to move closer, wanting to be guaranteed he wouldn't suddenly lash out. "That fish-tailed bimbo said a rotten stench had awoken her from her 'beauty sleep'," she muttered in disgust, "as if she needs it. She's a canvas, for Peat's Sake! What's going to change about that? A color wash-out?" It was obvious her and the painting didn't get along very well, or not at all, to be very accurate.

He smiled at her hidden concern for him, feeling guilty for having forgotten her existence completely over the passed months. "Myrtle?" he gently asked, giving her his most refined smile, "thank you." He stepped out to hug her, allowed the chill to settle in as he forgot that he couldn't touch her. She was dead, after all.

Nonetheless, she was touched deeply by his affection. Staring at him with bright shimmering eyes, he pictured them to have been a dazzling hazel brown with green tints as he looked deeper.

"Harry", Myrtle whispered in awe and affection. She slowly reddened and sniffed once, twice, then the familiar wailing of when he first met her took place again. She ran, rephrase, flew back into the u-bend of the toilet she always used to occupy with a splash, her hiccups resounding off the walls.

He gazed after her, glad that she hadn't passed through his nether regions; that would have been too cold for even him to handle at the moment. The voice had been feminine as well, he was almost positive, wondering why it seemed familiar.

The bathroom was now profoundly brighter than before, making it easier for Harry to find the door and use a secret passageway to get back to Gryffindor tower. He only prayed he would not meet anyone on the way back.

But in his insides a writhing feeling was taking place. As if his soul was fighting the very air he breathed, slowly losing to the new antagonist that kept him alive. Something else nagged him, though, in the very back of his mind.

Who is Draco?

* * *

Draco stopped on the stairs leading down to the third floor, Harry's delicate scent now stronger in the air, mingled with a little decay and . . . something unfamiliar to him.

He glanced at Gregori, his stormy silver eyes hardening, warning Gregori that if anything _had _happened to Harry, he would be among the ones who would pay. And he acknowledged it without flinching.

He could hear the increase in volume as the classes were about to end, releasing the students for lunch.

_'Crap_,' he swore mentally, blocking out the sound to reach out to Harry's mind. Amazingly, he was only a few meters away from him, walking up some hidden passage back to Gryffindor tower. Sighing in relief, he made a mental note to visit the ranting crackp- visit Dumbledore later. '_Be nice,_' he mentally chided himself, taking quick note of Gregori leaving to the Great Hall, then he himself flew up to meet Harry.

Draco easily glided into the Common Room that was empty, the faint smell of blood clinging in the air. It was familiar blood, Dean's probably, not a strong enough scent to have been a fatal wounding, but with that strange little sweetness that he had smelled before made him stay on guard. Just in case, of course.

He settled himself into one of the couches next to the fireplace, awaiting the return of his soon to-be lifemate. But before Harry could reach him first, Nearly Headless Nick floated out from the wall directly next to him, looking seriously miffed.

Draco held his breath, as if nearly suffocating would help make him invisible. Then he remembered his early childhood training of hiding within the most obvious. Before Nick could catch a proper glimpse of him, Draco allowed himself to scatter, but hover close enough so as not to slip away and wait for some kind of breeze to throw him back together again. He had been acting very un-malfoyish since the beginning of the year, he mused at himself. Wonder why?

Nick had not even bothered to look in his direction, his eyes glaring at nothing in particular in front of him, but her still muttered to himself nonetheless. "I should be chasing him. . . make me bet my head indeed. . . "

Luckily, Draco didn't have to try and focus to know what was wrong, Ron racing in at the most perfect of times.

Draco couldn't believe what was happening. '_Did I do something wrong in my former life?_' he asked himself, wondering why the person he was waiting for didn't show up.

Ron stopped, _did_ look directly _at_ Draco, though he didn't know what he was looking at. Did Ron have a slight sixth sense? But he went back to the obvious problem in front of him. "Nick?" he asked cautiously, unsure of whether a ghost could harm a person physically. "Nick, are you okay?"

"Does it look like I'm '_**okay**_'?" he shot back, his head bobbing dangerously. "Because I have run out of other suggestions, they expect me to try and be-head myself properly, so they can use my head for volleyball! Volleyball! That is an outrage!" Nick crossed himself as if about to pray, fervently whispering, "Forgive me, but Merlin, I truly wish to damn that Hufflepuff monk into limbo!"

Ron cautiously moved around the depraved ghost, succeeding only halfway.

"And _where_," Nick growled at him in a very unusual manner, his face contorted into a grimace holding pure malice, "do you think you're going?"

Ron swallowed, having dreamed the night before of being possessed and doing . . . unspeakable things. "I- I just- paper-quill-ignoring-" he couldn't form his sentence, his gaze locked with Nicks' smoldering view.

_**"Quit taking a leaf out of Quirrell's book and spit it out!"**_ he ordered, his head now officially flopped over to one side, his body trembling with pent-up frustration.

"Come now, you're scaring the boy half to death," a sultry voice said from behind him. Both looking in that direction, Draco included. They came face-to-face with another lady ghost whom neither of the students had ever met. Her hair shimmered a silver-gray, which was probably a standard for the haunting dead, and a dress that was embroidered along the lines of 16th century. "Pleased to meet you," she nodded at Ron, who stared openly at her, "I am one of the Resident ghosts from Ravenclaw, Ruthy Von Schrieder." Although she was dead, her eyes held strange and comforting warmth that calmed Nicholas extremely.

"More like Ruth-_less_ Von Shrieking," he muttered under his breath, ignoring her glowering at him.

Ron closed his mouth, shaking himself out of his momentary stun and had to pause a moment before introducing himself.

Draco decided he had had enough of these niceties, feeling a slight distress in Harry, however faint their connection, his smell now very heavy in the air. His emotions for the boy were very strong, which also added on to the thin threads that would bond them for eternity. Cautiously gliding above them, Draco had to be cautious, for ghosts could sense such disturbances within the balance of natures' forces, and shifting over to the other side to the bedrooms.

He was still suspended within the air as the sudden impact of pain overcame him, quick, and merciless. Draco was almost knocked back together and would have been revealed within the enemy, no, Gryffindor territory.

_'Something's happening', _Draco's mind was in a furious flutter, concentrating on where Harry was, sending out his mind to only find...

emptiness.

As if Harry had never existed, the only remaining proof of him ever having been was his qiuckly wavering scent. And within moments, it too, was gone.

* * *

**A/N: **Sorry about that one being cut so short! It was actually longer, until I re-read it and thought 'Nah, gotta change it'. So as soon as school begins its torturous educational efforts in vain to try and get me to pass math, I will dedicate my time once again to conspire on how this could end...muwahahahaha!!

Fine, honestly, I'm still plotting, and there's a possibility of snogging in the next chapter, so as the boy scouts put it - _**Be Prepared! **(Not a boy-scout, but I was considered an 'Honorary boy scout', so I feel special.)_


	14. Rewind My Time

**_Dark Temptations_**

**A/N:** You know, I forgot that Voldemort even existed until I read this other fic. And then I still didn't know who he was until I read another. And then realization dawned upon me as I have been placidly ignoring him.

**Lythtis:** Hehe, sorry Voldie! Please don't hex me to oblivion, I prefer to go there by train thankyouverymuch. Or maybe by a cruise-ship instead. . . choices, choices, so many choices.

**Voldie:** Oh, shut up...

**Disclaimer:** I'm having a dejavu about this, just to let you know. I have neither claim nor ownership over anything that J.K. has released to the public, neither over anything incriminating revealed _(kidding!) _by Warner Bros. Inc. All I own are the first two books, the first two movies, and the first two words meaning the title. And that's about it. . .I think.

Without further a-do, I present to you Chapter 13 of this never-ending jig.

* * *

**_Chapter 13- Rewind my Time_**

* * *

The stone building had been abandoned ages ago. 

It was made of solid black granite, tall, poorly lit, cobwebs hanging from every ceiling corner to the next if not aimlessly floating around on air and still showing no signs of crumbling. The smell inside wasn't quite as putrid as most would expect at first glance, but not as pleasant as the sickly sweet-smelling feminine perfumes or colognes. The furniture was covered in dust, easily making the slightest touch or imprint on anything immediately visible, including the footprints on the carpet.

In short, a place only Voldemort could consider personally cozy.

A pearl-gray cat was striding elegantly under the moonlight on the windowsill, watching the pale shape residing in the house with wary hazel eyes. It stopped, seating itself comfortably onto the wood, though its muscles still tense if the need to bolt should arise. And indeed, it would soon come.

Voldemort was sitting in front of an empty fire-place, having not bothered to light the bloody thing It wouldn't, no, couldn't warm him any more than his own skin. The outside might even turn into the same heat resembling when a cake is stuck in an oven, on the inside he would remain a storming blizzard, eternally cold both emotionally and spiritually. The only fire to even twinge him with any kind of warmth would be the fire of war, of chaos, of death itself. And he waited patiently for the day he could light that particular fire, patiently as a predator waits for its prey.

What few candles were lit flickered and quivered as a thick and near-solid shadow past. It reeked purely of blood and decay, the only thing seeming out of place was the fact it wasn't maggot-infested, as the odor would proclaim.

"Master", it hissed, the sound coming from nowhere and everywhere all at once, "the seed has been planted within the boy."

Voldemort, if he had heard, didn't acknowledge the fact of having done so. His frigid, lifeless eyes slowly turned towards the darkness wavering into shape and suddenly back into what it first had appeared to be. A shadow. "And?"

It quavered, the unstaring gaze holding it in its power, making it and the air within the secluded room shiver with slight unease. "Beg pardon, milord," the shadow took on a solid form, one that cast an illusion of a middle-aged man with brown hair slowly migrating north, "I do not quite understand-"

"Fool!" he suddenly thundered, his eyes flashing dangerously, his cloak billowing out from him as he jumped to his feet, causing both dust and webs to rise up and fly restlessly around the room. Random fragile items within the room began shattering in a chain reaction, the fragments flying dangerously close to the third occupant within the room.

The cat on the sill arched its back, hissing with sudden rebuke, taking this queue to bolt, and easily jumping off and into the backyard, landing silently and pacing with speed into the alley around back.

"Imbecile!" Voldemort raised his hand and struck the form down onto the wooden floor, more dust stirring with the sudden disruption, its eyes open in shock, though it seemed unfazed by the blow. "What about Dante and Aidan?"

_'He'_ looked up, his eyes shielding the smoldering he felt inside, the loathing for this pathetic creation he was forced to worship as if he alone were god. The only part in a person's life _**'milord'**_ played was whether or not they would meet their demise earlier than expected. Kneeling on one knee, he bent his head and said in a faltering tone, "Milord, Dante didn't have such success. But Aidan is still within Hogwarts to keep an eye on things."

Voldemort raised his hand as if to strike '_him'_ yet again, but decided against it. Instead he turned on his heel, striding over to the window where the cat had rested moments before. "Very well," he murmured, looking for any kind of good in their failure to complete such a simple task. "I hope you know you have alarmed the hunters," he said louder, his voice rasping on air, the sound like a crumbling cookie, but a dangerous blade hidden within.

"From what you have told me, they will in turn warn the prince and, but only if, other hunters are near and able to help." Voldemort's eyes clouded into a poisonous cerise, the red contrasting horribly with his paleness. He turned once again to look down upon his _'follower'_. "You can only hope that it will quickly grow within him," he whispered, a strangely unsure tone embedded within his typical growling. "But just in case, let's send them a welcoming gift." His face split into a horrid grim smile, no trace of humor but over-pouring malice.

Raising his hand towards his unaware servant, he let the two words so familiar to him even before hie graduated glide easily onto his tongue and passing through his lifeless lips. The command sending a green spark springing forth from his hidden wand to surround and envelop the undead kneeling in front of him.

Regretfully, it truly didn't kill a vampire, but rather sent them into a coma-like stage and stripped them of their abilities, their rotten and withering body becoming apparent, showing them to be nothing more but a walking corpse with a will. But even those wills, just as the living, were easy to take under control.

Looking at the decaying body in front of him, he wrinkled what little he had for a nose and grunted in disgust. "Elli!" he called, a hooded figure immediately appearing at his side. "What do you think we should do with him?"

Underneath the hood she smiled, glad that she had learned how to conceal her other half and make it pass out on command. "He will find cause soon enough," she said, tilting her head to the side as if regarding the creature that continued to wither with each passing moment, "but allow me to remove him. His odor is still quite unbearable."

Reaching into the folds of her cloak, her red-and-gold uniform showing only for a moment before the material fell back into place, she muttered 'Wingardium Leviosa', and easily directed it towards the window. Elli was tempted to just drop him on whatever was out there and hope that it was the fence, but instead she walked over and pointed towards the little mound of earth that had been upturned earlier that day.

Satisfied that no one would stumble across it, she turned back towards Voldemort, who was regarding her with unwavering eyes. "Oh, don't worry so much," she cooed, skipping over and hugging him gently. "I'm sorry I didn't get him the first time," Elli said, her lower lip slightly pouting, "but this time it is absolutely flawless."

Voldemort was immobile as she continued to hold him close like a mother would an extremely tall child. She could do little more than stand on her toes to place her arms comfortably around his shoulders. "I trust you to know what you are doing", his grating voice said. "I still have a personal score to settle with Dumbledore."

"Soon enough," she whispered as she planted a kiss on his cheek, "soon enough we will watch as Dumbledore will fall to ruin, and finally-" she pulled her hood off to reveal mousy features with short-cropped brown hair and chilling hazel eyes, "Harry Potter will be no more. And-" she once again reached into the folds of her robe, bringing forth a slightly terrified-looking toad, "my faithful little Ven will also be able to help."

* * *

Lolita was wearing a hole into the carpet in the library. 

She continuously paced back and forth, back and forth, Madame Pince having turned away to look somewhere else, for her mere pacing was giving her a headache.

"Where is Draco?" she hissed through gritted teeth, though her face betrayed no annoyance that raged within her. Repeating her steps from the beginning once again for the umpteenth time. "He should have been here by now."

She hadn't noticed Neville stepping out of the closet at the back of the library, a dazed and confused look on his face. Not until she ran directly into him and they both fell into a chaotic heap on the floor, one struggling and fighting, the other doing their best to try and get their mind caught up to the moment.

"Get off me!" Lolita yelled, kicking and clawing at poor Neville, who truly didn't know what was happening.

Luckily she missed his face as her hands continuously found themselves knotted in his robes. "Lolita?" he asked in pure amazement, not understanding what she was doing as they both struggled to get to their feet. His mind was finally with him in the present. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing," she muttered, dusting off her robes and glaring at the students that had been muttering behind them.

"What is going on?" Madame Pince came around one of the many bookshelves, her eyes accusing and demanding an honest answer.

"I tripped," Neville replied before Lolita had a chance to intervene and make up some fib. "I had been lost in thought and then I tripped and fell on Lolita."

Madame turned to Lolita and looked at her pointedly. "Anything else to add?" her words were clipped, obviously awaiting something completely different from her side of the story.

"No miss," she slightly curtsied, smiling pleasantly but her voice betrayed her vexation.

Madame Pince glared at both of them one last time, looking to make sure no books had been disrupted or torn as they had been rolling on the floor, easily possible for them to bump into shelves and knock them down. "Very well, but I want no more, or else you're suspended from this part of the school. Understood?"

They both grumbled a "Yes, miss" in unison, Lolita sticking her tongue out once she had turned around. "And Ms. Dubrinsky?"

_'Crap,'_ Lolita thought, cursing her short-temper. "Yes, miss?"

"Stop pacing in my library."

'_Yeah right, **you're** library. As if **you** bought it._' Nonetheless, she stayed respectful as her mother had taught her and replied simply "Yes, miss."

"I'm sorry", Neville mumbled once the librarian was gone, "I really didn't mean to bump into you."

She turned around, looking him up and down, studying his face. He was a friend, so she would keep her mind firmly shut from his. She knew how to control them, simple as that, but she respected their privacy and had trained her thoughts not to wander around. "It's okay, really. It was partially my fault for not seeing you."

"That's okay."

A strange silent fell over them as they continued to stand and look at each other, or down at their feet. Suddenly, Neville's head shot up and he glanced at Lolita, wondering if he could tell her. '_She probably wouldn't judge me'_, he thought, hoping there was a possibility he could confide in her. '_She wouldn't turn me away, right?'_ Clearing his throat, he caught her attention and she looked at him questioningly.

"Yes?"

Before the breath left his lips, a strong, violent grasp had him by the back of his head, pulling his muddy-brown hair back in a tight fist.

"Neville," Dean spat his name as if a curse, not loosening his grip.

Neville was whimpering in pain, his eyes watering as he tried to free himself from Dean's hold. "Please, let go," he begged, trying to pry his fingers off only to be tugged back further, making him fall to his knees.

"Dean! Why are you doing that to him?" Lolita demanded, not wanting to ask 'what' he was doing, it was obvious he was trying to hurt the poor boy. "Stop it!" She looked around to make sure the old bat wasn't around before her voice raised too high.

"Why am I doing this?" he looked at her as if she had grown crows from her hair. "Ask him why he did what he did to me!"

"Let him go, Dean", her voice trembled with the effort to remain in control. "He didn't do anything to you. Please just let him go."

"Oh really?" Dean's eyes narrowed dangerously, seeing her as an equal predator and not as a former friend. "Did you hear that, Neville? She thinks you didn't do anything."

Neville only cowered, tears threatening to spill.

"If you don't tell her," he rounded on Lolita, staring her in the eyes, resolving not to touch her, yet make her understand what it exactly was that Neville had done. "You weren't there when it happened," he began warily, loosening his hand, "but when we were up in the house bathr-"

"Dean?" she asked, stepping closer though still cautious. "Dean, what's wrong?"

Dean started having a horrible coughing fit, his face starting to turn from his usual pale rosiness to a cerulean blue, then a fiery red, ending in a sickly gray. He had let Neville's hair go, who had stood and ran in direction exit towards the Hospital Wing, rubbing his head all the while.

"Dean?!" Lolita was starting to get scared, allowing her mind to open to his. He was choking. "Dean, snap out of it!" 'But he hadn't eaten anything,' she reasoned, looking around, 'was he choking on air?' That could be a possibility.

Before she had a chance to properly breathe in anything, Madame Pince had of course returned, wanting to find the source of the ruckus being caused in her usually peaceful library. "Mr. Thomas?" she asked, her face panic-stricken.

Lolita had slowly begun to massage his chest and neck, kneeling so his head rested in her lap, his body trembling with the effort of trying to breathe properly. "C'mon Dean," she silently pleaded, having enjoyed the boy's odd company, no matter how short it had been. She had never felt this way before, this fear of losing a friend striking her deep, as if he himself had hit her. "Breathe, damn it. Breathe!"

"Go get Madame Pomfrey!" she commanded a third-year who had been watching, fascination written across his face as he had never seen anyone suffer before. He had obviously been enjoying the show. "What are you waiting for? An invitation?" she said, her own voice rising a few octaves as her own worries started to show.

He obliged to her demand, making haste as he went hither.

Dean's breathing had slowed down, his face taking on its normal shading, but his life was flickering. "Dean!" Lolita heard a feeble croak come from his chest. She lunged forward in a heartbeat nearly crushing the lump that had secretly been under Dean's shirt all along. Reaching under his shirt with her other hand, she brought forth a butt-ugly toad, fat and still moist, croaking its demise probably.

Lolita had half a nerve to crush the thing and drop it into her next pot during potions, not killing it, just crippling its legs so it would live during the brewing, hot water surrounding it. Her gaze on the amphibian was intent, until something shifted on her lap. Dean's breathing had regulated and was quickening to it's usual pace, but his skin was still deciding if it should go healthy or stay sick. "Dean," she sighed in relief, hearing the rushed footsteps of. . . more than two people. Turning around, she saw the third-year, Seamus, Hermione, and-

_'Time for disappearing-act, number four'_, she thought, immediately shifting and flying away before Savannah caught proper sight of her.

Dean's head with a hard 'thump' on the carpet, which was not soft anymore, thanks to Lolita's continuous pacing. He groaned in pain just as the four stopped next to him, Seamus walking around to him on the other side while Hermione hovered along the edge of the little crowd gathered. "I don't understand," Savannah muttered to herself as she prodded him in random places, "why are you even out of the Hospital Wing?"

* * *

_Draco._

_Draco, Draco, dearest Draco._ That name would not leave Harry's head as he made his way back to Gryffindor tower, passing one portrait after another, though lost so much in thought he hadn't noticed the points and stares he was receiving. Girls and elder witches alike were giggling and blushing as he passed, the male paintings not quite as excited to see him in such a state.

A throbbing sensation began to slowly well within his chest. A humming, murmuring and whispering to him, calling him appeared in the back of his mind, growing as he continued down the deserted corridor that was rarely used. He looked around his shoulder, making sure no one was behind him, then occupied himself with trying to remember who Draco was. The image of an elegant blonde who seemed to have been graced with the features of a languid dancer shimmied through his thoughts, ranging in and out of focus.

_Draco, Draco, Draco my heart._ It always ended with some kind of sweet little thought concluding the third time the name was repeated. Dearest, love, sweet. But what clung to him was that submerged knowledge of him being his. _Draco, mine alone._

His head pounded with the effort it took to try and focus on him and him alone. Who was Draco? Why did he sound so familiar? Look so familiar? Taste. . .?

His hand flew to his lips, gently brushing against his bottom lip, thinking hard and desperately. He swore he could almost touch that forbidden and concealed thought that wouldn't be removed from his mind. It hurt and his breathing became irregular, but he had to know. Harry warded off the cold, willing himself to grasp what was destined to be out of his reach. _'Please'_, tears were forming, holding onto his lashes every time he closed his eyes, _'I have to remember.'_ He touched what was concealed from him, images, thoughts, feelings all let loose on him in one instant, as if he had busted a bubble of dreams and hopes; his dreams and hopes.

Harry fell to the ground, withheld tears freely streaming down his cheeks, immense pain immediately weighting gravity down upon him a tenfold than normally. No pictures were in this part of the secret passageway, no pictures would be able to go and tell others to come and help him. No pictures to tell anyone he was here. The sudden torture reverberated within his chest, attempting to squeeze his throat closed so no air could ever pass through again. His mind seemed to become frozen in a solid thought, Draco Malfoy.

The connection in his mind hadn't quite reached his reaction nerves, the information processing too slowly under this struggle for air and feeling into his body again. He writhed and squirmed on the cold floor, the towel around his waist loosening and falling onto the stones underneath him. Gasping like a fish on land, his eyes became dilated and for one instant he saw Draco's face, clear as the sun on an early spring day, shining down upon the dew that had settled onto the grass blades. A moments' relief flooded over Harry, but then the corrupting shadows immediately sprung forth and claimed his consciousness.

He mumbled his name once, in a silent whispered attempt to call him to his side. What little air still surrounded and seemed available to him gratefully carried the message forth to the recipient, who mercifully wasn't too far away.

* * *

_Draco._

It was a quiet, distant plea, but one that instantly caught Draco's attention at his futile attempt to find his mate. Fear had infested and now abided within him. "Harry?"

Lunch was near its ending as the sound of the students marching off into different directions increased in volume, their endless chatter mingling with one another, with the whisper that he had been searching for nearly half that day. But as he closed his eyes, Draco was able to catch that little distinct sound and instantly flew to the source.

"I have to find you", he growled. A quiet menace filled with dread and anxiety is the most dangerous kind of menace someone could find, so luckily he didn't meet anyone in the halls. "Please be all right." From where the little whisper had come from was behind the stone wall on the fourth floor, making him have to backtrack for a time until he found the right spot. Pictures almost instantly flourished into hushed gossip and spreading rumors at how Draco seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.

The images ran from one canvas to the next, almost like a historical game of 'muggle-telephone', which would have appeared funny if the situation weren't scaring him so much. He started talking to various paintings whose owners still had remained present in their frames, issuing various threats if none of them could tell them of a hidden door nearby to lead to the passageway behind them.

It didn't take long for Draco to find what he had been looking for, but mostly because the sudden vanishing of Harry's scent somehow seemed to have come into this secluded hallway and hung heavy in the air. Draco almost fainted with bliss as relief swept over him. Just as soon as that ease enveloped him, it just as quickly evaporated. He sent his mind out to find Harry, barely able to brush his thoughts and receiving no response. Draco's heart nearly stopped as he continued to fly through the corridor, all hope suddenly vanishing, the thirst of the killer within taking over as quickly and silently as he had seen little flickers of his face mingled with his scent. '_Focus',_ he pleaded with himself, not wanting to surrender all will to the darkness within, '_focus and find Harry. He needs me, my help. He needs Draco.'_

The last thought cleared his mind from the hazy red fog that had been slowly creeping into his mind and blurring his sight. "Harry!" he called out into that seemingly endless hallway that was filled with his mate. He could almost convince himself this _**was**_ Harry, only that his promise was missing. His eternal green with sprinkles of gold mixed within them. Nothing here even hinted the possibility of the color green being present.

Draco longed to his eyelids, his nose, his cheeks, his forehead, his lips. He ached for the feeling of his hands running through Harry's raven-black mane that seemed so thick and wild. He wanted to touch his skin, taste him, smell him, hold him. He wanted Harry and it was killing him on the inside.

"Harry!" he turned about himself, hearing only his echo reverberating from farther along and ringing off walls. "Harry!"

_Draco._

It seemed that silent little breeze that came to him the first time had returned to taunt him yet again with his own name. But it was stronger this time, closer.

"Harry!"

_I miss you._

"Harry, where are you?" his Malfoy pride battled viciously with his emotions, Draco wanting to cry but his eyes remaining dry. "Keep talking! Please, Harry!"

_I want to see you._

"Harry!" Draco had to take to the air again, like an arrow he streaked through the concealed corridor, the sound getting louder. "I'm almost there! Just keep talking!"

_I don't want to fight anymore._

He shivered with how distant his voice seemed to be getting, yet how close it sounded when his mind drifted off towards possibilities. "I don't want to fight either, Harry!" he called out, looking around to see if he was anywhere, hoping for any sign of him being present.

_I love you._

"Harry!" the desperate cry escaped his throat without his permission, but he didn't care. It didn't matter, for nothing ever truly did once one realizes what really is, who really is the most important person for one. "Please Harry! Come back to me! Harry!"

_Good-bye._

Those last two words struck him deep in his heart. The sound of his voice seemed to have come from nowhere and everywhere at once. _"Harry. . .?"_ he whispered meekly, willing the dread, the fear of having lost him away, banning it to the very back of his core, his being, the beast inside trembling with tense anticipation. The alarm was feeding it unknown strength, and Draco immediately coursed forward.

"Harry!"

His words clenched themselves within Draco's soul. It cried and begged and raged for Harry, for his Harry. Harry, his and his alone. No one else could have him, would have him, not even death was permitted to court him.

_I love you, good-bye. I love you, good-bye. I love you, good-bye._

An eternal echo he cherished and held close within him. "Damn it, Potter! Come back to me!" His eyes were blazing dangerously, power radiating from his chiseled features underneath his robe. Would anyone be present they might consider him one seriously pissed-off bogey.

_I love you, good-bye._

_'Harry was stronger than that'_, Draco swore to himself, having little restraint remaining on his tainted side, _'Harry can fight it off'_.

_I love you,_

Draco finally caught the scent of Harry and it was stronger. He was getting closer, he knew he was getting closer, every fiber of him taut with anxiety. _'Harry.'_

_Good-bye._

_**"HARRY POTTER!"**_

* * *

**A/N:** This time it's not my fault! Honestly! . . . well, actually it is, because I didn't know how I should continue. Hehehe. Sorry about that. I have a feeling I should start saying my prayers, because I feel daggers in my back already. Dang, even when I don't mean to have a cliff-hanger, the stupid thing still appears. Fine, no snogging in this one, maybe next, I don't know. And did anyone catch the pathetic humour-attempts I tried to add in? I was just seriously bored... Anyhoo, toodles for now. 

Lythtis


	15. The Forgotten Passion

**_Dark Temptations_**

**A/N:** Finally the next chapter, with some new entertaining fun just for you guys!

Disclaimer: I will never own Harry Potter, for it was well-semi completed before my time. Or, at least my graduation time, for now only two years remain. So there.

**_Bold/Italic_**-Harry's thoughts

**Bold**-Voice

* * *

_**Chapter 14-The Forgotten Passion**_

* * *

A quiet malice resided within the school.

None, carpathian, muggle-born, pureblood or wizened headmaster sensed the slow developing of the sinister fate settling upon Hogwarts grounds. It had become part of the ether of the students, connecting to their bloodstream, flowing unnoticed into their hearts, their minds. It brought an unknown hold onto the many pupils, nonmattering if their parents were part of the deceiving Ministry or the accursed branded Death Eaters. Each personage now had an invisible chain laced around his or her being, from first years to professors, magical and mythical creatures to deceased spirits haunting about, even the giant squid out in the lake was now imprisoned within the unseen web of this alterable destiny.

Though the carpathians were singled out from these dastardly deeds, they sensed the tension in the air. Even close friends could only hold a feeling of being lost, a great gaping in their hearts that couldn't be filled nor explained through any kind of logical reasoning. And it scared them.

Something was changing within the stone walls of this magnificent castle that was known as a shelter and refuge to those many with magical talents who refused to give up. As if to prove this fact, the number of students had immensely increased, but that alone would not be enough to withstand the destructive hunger and passion of he-who-shall-be-supposedly-defeated-by-none. Classes had become stricter, pressuring and encouraging the adolescents to take their studies more seriously, to accelerate in the more important classes, such as Defense against the Dark Arts, Potions, and Charms. Curses and hexes were being learned quickly, but would be just as much out of sorts like a wildflower in the middle of a freeway if protection spells weren't studied and mastered as well.

No, as much as they struggled to practice and accomplish different tasks of both offense and defense, there would still be the little doubt placed in the back of their mind: Would this all truly be enough?

Just as such questions and fears slowly took root and blossomed in their souls, it also overpowered the existence and knowledge of a certain individual. For, as long as he wasn't present, any hope that was deeply embedded within them could be bid farewell.

Harry Potter remained forgotten.

* * *

**_I know that name._**

**_I know that face. I know that person. Draco Malfoy, the one I love._**

**Truly?**

_**Yes, truly. I truly love him.**_

**But does he love you?**

**_I...do not know._**

**Then it is not love.**

**_He says he does! He says he cares for me, that he wants me to be happy. That he would never hurt me and will always protect me._**

**And you?**

**_I care for him the same. I long to protect him and my determination to do so is resolute. I don't ever want him to be put in harm's way because of me. He promised the same to me._**

**And you trust this?**

**_Yes, yes I trust him with all my heart and soul._**

**Then, as you say, with your heart and soul, you shall pay the price.**

**_Who are you to judge upon my decisions and demand a price?_**

**The same that will protect you from harm.**

Once again, all Harry knew was the unbearable silence that accompanied the shadowed demons of his mind. And he could only repeat Draco's name to help lessen his fears.

* * *

This corridor is endless, Draco despaired, squinting ahead for any sign to show that it would end.

It seemed to him as if hours had passed if not days, the scent of him either becoming heavier or fainter had been indistinguishable so long ago. Everywhere Draco turned, it remained the same.

_I love you; good-bye._

_'This is ridiculous',_ he thought, shaking his head to steady his emotions and try to calm the raging beast within him. '_This is not real. This is some kind of manipulative fog.'_ Draco acted as if he'd suddenly grasped the reality of the situation. He punched the wall, the stone immediately crumbling under the impact.

Harry had never been in here to begin with.

_'It's a trap! Damn them!'_ he cursed in his mind, bolting forward, figuring the door at the end would probably be closer than the one behind him. Only the end of the corridor still never came. _'Fucking vampires!'_

Until Draco passed what seemed to be the sixty-eighth segment of wall he had counted, he leaned his hand against the stones to try and think. This made no sense; he should have come across some kind of exit so long ago-why wasn't there any sign of one?

Looking at where his hand rested, he noticed the uneven indent of the stones. His eyes did slowly bleed red as he figured out what he had been doing this whole time while god-only-knows-what was happening to Harry. In circles; he had been running in circles.

His suppressed growl coalesced into a full-fledged roar that echoed through the hallway and, bouncing off the walls, caused bits of loosened rock and dust to fall and be set free. Draco didn't trust his scent anymore, allowing his judgement and sense of direction to help guide him towards the right path where his mate was. Parting himself, he easily sifted through the cracks and gaps within the walls.

Only Draco didn't know that he truly had gotten closer to his mate. He had only to watch the ground as walls shifted around him through the haze of deception.

* * *

**Would you like to see him?**

Harry almost choked as he inhaled, looking around for the bodiless voice. _**Yes, yes I do!**_

A mirthless chuckle rose out of the darkness, wrapping around him as if to crush his bones. **Very well then,** it croaked, **look deep into yourself, and you shall find what you seek.**

Harry had doubts about what it said, but as true as it's word, he saw Draco in radiating power.

He saw how Draco was struggling to find him, calling his name, pleading for any kind of sign as to where he was. Harry had heard the sound increase as his footsteps came closer, as Draco had started running down the hallway. But then they stopped.

Harry was scared for a moment that something had happened to him, that Draco was experiencing something that he couldn't see, something internal that he couldn't help with. His face clouded over into an expression he couldn't read, his eyes starting to glow a dangerous red.

Then, without any kind of warning, Draco turned on his heel and went back.

Harry at first didn't believe his eyes. He was speechless and that sight struck him deep, hard, cold. It shattered his soul, what little bond they had shared was now crushed. The dark feathery touches in his gut distorted into blistering rakes against his skin, his own vision in the darkness turning into a hazy red.

_Betrayal._ Draco betrayed him and had left him behind.

The bitter kiss of supposed realization met him head-on, merciless and relentless as it struck him wave after wave as little bits of confusion and lies merged together into one single moment of pain. And it hurt him deep.

He couldn't voice his scream, his mouth was dry, unshed tears easily flowed down his soft cheeks. He felt lost, his mind was restless. _Draco betrayed him._

Draco betrayed him. He didn't come to help him.

**_Draco. Betrayed. Him._**

Draco wouldn't do that, the little part of his brain that seemed to work tried reasoning. Draco couldn't do that.

Doubt easily overrides efforts of convincing the opposite. _Couldn't he?_

Harry shook his head, clearing his sight so that he could just stare into the inky blackness that surrounded him. His mind slowly started working again.

_Couldn't Draco do that?_

He tried denying it to himself, saying that Draco wouldn't do that. Draco had changed; Draco had captured his heart-

And was free to do what he wished with it.

The faint memories that desperate part of his mind was sending him were the recent times of how they had laughed together; how they had gotten along and held each other; how they had confessed deep-kept feelings for each other. Someone you share something so special with couldn't just up and go like that.

But this was Draco they were 'talking' about. The stronger part of his mind that seemed out of place had more control, and brought back all the memories of how they had argued, how they had fought and despised each other. How Draco had done his best to try and hex him to nothing, and Harry doing just the same to defend his friends.

He couldn't deny it. They had hated each other, and in two weeks it seemed that it would be impossible to forget all of that spite and malice.

But it had been possible, because they had forgotten about it.

**I warned you that you would pay with your heart and soul,** the voice drifted close. **I tried to help you before, but you were torn between whom to trust. And now you suffer.**

Silently, his crystal promise fell from his shut eyes, his body trembling as he cried like a lost child, truly alone in the deep dark woods, danger lurking around every shadow. He wanted to not believe that Draco had turned back, but the seed of deception had slowly sprouted roots, growing into something that would also change Harry and his heart.

**_I want to go speak with him, he whispered, choking on his attempt at speaking. I do not wish to believe he truly did that. Please, allow me to speak to him._**

**You have already lost your heart once to him,** the voice intoned gently, **he has caused you this pain, yet you wish to return again. Are you for certain that you long to return to experience an aching loss in your soul once more?**

_**I...**_Harry had doubts. He wanted to prove that Draco hadn't done what his eyes showed him, that this faltering of his mind to truly believe was just that; a faltering of his trust in him.**_ I..._**

**Allow yourself to become bonded to him,** the voice instructed. **Allow yourself to be seduced and hold yourself true towards him. But once your souls are merged to one, all you know, see, and feel will become part of him. Same as all his will be yours. And if you find it true that he has betrayed you, it paused as if to add a more dramatic effect to his words, then allow yourself to be destroyed and in turn cause him much grief and suffer, equivalent to your own.**

Harry listened intently to its words, not knowing that what it was saying was actually a laced command that the little parasite inside him would invoke obedience. Yes, he would return to Draco, he would share his whole being the same as Draco with him. He would also be able to see his mind and thoughts, though these would be trimmed with an ever-so-slight alteration that Draco himself would not be able to detect. But these alterations would eventually lead to Harry feeling ultimately transgressed by who he believed to be his whole world.

Harry would return to Draco, only to find his fate and trust to conclude him to his awaiting demise. The voice would train him somewhat in supposed techniques that would show only the 'truth' to him. The reality, not what his heart desired to see.

**Allow yourself to return to the ground; ashes to ashes, such as dust to dust. Allow your time to expire, and cease existence, if you truly wish to see him thrash in your own pains and slowly lose his grip on sanity, for the hunter to become one of the hunted, the most deadly of them all. For a undead to go mad is indeed a threat to all. Allow him to cry out in agony as the rest of the world trembles in pain and fear of him. **

**Allow yourself to _die_, Harry Potter.**

* * *

Two weeks passed without incident, Draco doing little more than fading away in his dormitory rooms, Lolita and Gregori not being able to do much more for him. Savannah occasionally managed him to drink a blood pocket from a hospitals' blood-storage once, but that was the only sign to show him to still be among the living and sane.

"Is Draco dying?" Pansy asked Savannah one day as she watched the young woman bustle back and forth in his private rooms, Madame Pomfrey still having yet to return.

Savannah turned and stared at her, torn between amusement and annoyance. "Whatever gave you that idea?" she asked in idle curiosity.

She shrugged indifferently, but her brown-gray eyes could not cloud her worries about her friend as Draco could even smother sadness and replace it with spite. She had no such skills, simply because she wasn't a Malfoy and she didn't mind being open. She was a girl.

Savannah shook her head, not knowing how to answer her. "He will be fine sooner or later. Hopefully Harry will show up soon." She glanced up through the moon-arched window out into the night, where storm clouds roiled across the star-scattered sky, obscuring all light from them. Dinner had only been over about two hours.

"Who?" Pansy glanced at her, not fully aware of what she said.

"Nothing." It was strange, the way no one seemed to recall Harry Potter. But then again, she herself could barely remember the poison-green eyes as they flashed with sudden malice. "Could you get his homework for him and try to keep those two walking columns out of my way? They're really starting to get on my nerves." She inclined her head towards Crabbe and Goyle as they loomed threateningly over Draco, though it was their way of showing concern.

"Yes miss," Pansy smiled and grabbed them by their sleeves, dragging them behind her obediently, though she did risk a glance back over her shoulder at Draco's still form.

Savannah sighed, sitting down in the chair next to the desk as Gregori appeared next to her. "He's slowly losing it, isn't he?" he intoned quietly, his usually apathetic face frowning as he noted the still vacant glaze in Draco's eyes.

She nodded in reply, tilting over to lean against him as he put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly. "If only there were some sign of Harry being somewhere nearby," she whispered, trying to understand what was going on inside of Harry. Elder and more experienced Carpathians would have gone mad by now, possibly torn up all of England if not Europe to find their mate. But Draco fought within himself, not sure of what to do. He was lost within his darkness, and only said person could have any hope snapping him out of it.

Suddenly and without Warning, Draco's gray eyes immediately sprang into focus, their glaze changing to brilliant silver sprinkled with blue as he looked around the room, his eyes wide and his lips slightly parted. "Ha..." he croaked, tangling himself within the emerald sheets as he tried to reach his goal.

"Ha..." He couldn't finish it. He couldn't say his name.

"Draco, restrain yourself!" Gregori ordered, moving to his side and putting his hands on either shoulder as he tried to force him to lie back down.

But it proved to be futile. Draco had summoned all of the gathered and preserved strength of the past two weeks and bundled them into this one instant, all to free himself of these temporary chains and reach his other half, his lifemate.

"Harry!"

* * *

Draco ran and ran and ran.

He ran until he could run no more, he ran until he could barely see through his unfocused eyes, he ran until he found what he searched for. He ran until he saw Harry Potter stand in front of him, healthy and alive, smiling that openhearted and carefree smile that made Draco shiver inside with admiration.

"Harry..." he sighed, relief and joy overwhelming him until he nearly passed out. He crushed these easily with the longing to touch Harry's hair and face and neck and-simply just to hold him once again. He ran once again, not quite as fast, but still knocking Harry backwards as he stormed and embraced him in a hug that threatened to shatter his ribs if not lungs.

"Hey Drac-"

"_Don't you '_Hey Draco'_ me!"_ he shouted, pulling Harry, though thought impossible, even tighter into his arms. "Don't you dare 'Hey Draco' me as if it's only been a few minutes! Damn it, Harry! Don't act like nothing happened!"

"Wha-what?" he mumbled in confusion. He was struggling to breathe properly, Draco obviously not about to let go anytime soon. "Draco, I-"

"Don't!" Draco shouted, his whole body trembling as he leaned his head down against Harry's raven hair. "Just don't..." he silently pleaded, Harry's hair dampening without the presence of a shower or rain. Draco was crying.

Harry was stunned. It was an emotional attack that made him want to hold Draco close, wanted to kiss away his tears and tell him everything would be fine. But maybe everything wouldn't be.

They stood there in the hallway a little longer, the torches and candles flickering erratically as their shadows shifted from the walls to the stone floors and then cast strangely against each other. Harry relaxed into Draco's death-grip, finding no sense in trying to push against him if he didn't want to faint for lack of air. Seriously, he could black out if his oxygen-supply dwindled further down.

Finally daring to try and break the silence, Harry lifted his turbulent golden-green eyes to stare directly into Draco's. "Look," he started very slowly, not too for sure on how Draco would react, "I'm sorry that I–"

Draco traced his hand from Harry's hip to his lips, gently placing his fingertips against them. He felt heat crash within him at the gesture of his lips still moving against him. Temptation would not be cheated again. Draco allowed the shadow within him to consume him slightly and he ever so carefully placed his lips against Harry's.

Harry's eyes widened in surprise, caught completely off guard. His first thought was to push Draco back, to fight and tell him that he didn't want to, but it was as if he wasn't part of himself anymore. His mind screamed and raged, trying to speak sense as Draco continued his onslaught as he bit Harry's lower lip, his little caresses begging for entry into his mouth.

Harry didn't understand the change within himself, the way he wanted to be taken by Draco, to be his alone. Temptation to surrender himself completely to his ex-nemesis seemed so criminal, and yet so right. It was sweet torment for Harry, not understanding why he wanted to keep Draco away from him, but needed to be filled with him. He wanted Draco to be inside him, to be part of him. He wanted to be one with him.

He could do little more than open his mouth as an unspoken invitation, one that Draco didn't have to ask twice for as he immediately befell the smaller boy, tasting him, exploring him, wanting to swallow him whole.

He was warm, delicious, and the taste of him made Draco go crazy with tamed desire. He whispered something against Harry's lips as he momentarily withdrew his tongue, only for Harry to find himself a moment later to be sprawled out on Draco's bed sheets.

Savannah and Gregori were out of sight, which Draco noted and activated all safeguards incredibly fast.

Now having ensured their privacy to remain undisturbed, he focused all his attention back on the ardent Gryffindor underneath him. Momentary Malfoy pride gave him the time to allow himself a wicked smirk down at Harry, who was now trapped and he loved the sight of him. Hot and wanting as he moved restlessly against him.

Arching his back as he dipped down to yet again have a thorough tasting of his young lover, Draco only stopped to whisper huskily against his ear. "Please," he mumbled, his lips moving against Harry's sensitive shell, "please be mine. Be mine hear and now, and I will never let you go."

**Surrender yourself to the darkness, surrender yourself to him. Allow yourself to be bonded to him.**

A warning bell was ringing unrestrained in his mind, signaling something not to be right. But this sweet seduction game that had him so filled was undeniably blissful. Harry couldn't deny him, not now, nor ever. Possibly.

He nodded, only to find his clothes gone within seconds, a sweep of Draco's hand having discarded the offending material. It had been the last remaining barrier between him and Draco, and now that little protection and reassurance was gone. He was truly exposed and vulnerable to all and nothing that Draco could or would do to him. Harry's mind suddenly felt trapped, as if he'd walked too soon into the den of a predator. He could see the intense energy radiating from Draco's stoic chest. He was pure dominance that demanded submission, and Harry was beginning to feel slightly panicked.

Draco sensed his unease, but only a smidgen through the hazy lust that purposely clouded his mind as his beast anticipated its release. He wanted to choose for Harry, wanted to take him and show him how it felt to be close to someone else. But to do that would be just as bad as taking advantage of him if he were unconscious. _No_, he sighed in regret, he would have to try and coax Harry back into being open with him, to allow himself to be consumed by him.

But then again, Draco thought with some joy, to make him tremble for him and make him call his name until he could barely stand the feeling of Draco not being inside him would be more fun. They had all the time in the world, and he was not about to make a blunder that could last for eternity just because he was impatient.

* * *

Harry had his fingers entwined into the soft emerald sheets of the bed, arching his back every time Draco lightly ghosted across him, feeling himself clutch at the loss of his heat.

He writhed against him, straddled firmly underneath him as Draco slowly administered some unspeakable things to him that made him feel near the point of suffocating if he didn't release himself. His eyes were a smoky golden-green, his hooded gaze alone ablaze with fervor and need that had been so unexplainable to him only a short while ago. Or so it seemed to him.

Draco alone was having the hardest time controlling himself, always having to force himself to stay until Harry called his name, begged for Draco to make him belong to him alone. He had to wait until Harry wanted him unconditionally, until he screamed for Draco to make him his. He had to wait until then, not before.

He touched Harry's cheek, looked at his panting form lightly coated with sweat, barely restraining himself. It was a beautiful sight and Draco would never forget the sight of Harry, the thought being burned into his mind for future memories he grinned to himself.

"Draco," Harry groaned his name, trying to make closer contact but only to find himself hindered by the fact of Draco having pinned his wrists and his hips, making it only possible for him to squirm and graze his stomach occasionally.

During those skin contacts Draco found it immensely hard to hold himself in check. He quivered internally at the way Harry said his name, like cream running down a tulip petal. He bent his head down and slowly swirled and nipped, enjoying every sensation that vibrated through Harry's trembling form.

He couldn't stand it any longer. To be teased and taunted, fine, but this was agony in person, torment come laugh at him every time Draco's hot mouth got so close, then only to move away, leaving him colder and more wanting than before. Harry couldn't take it! "Draco!"

Draco gladly obliged to Harry's plea, shifting his weight as he looked down at his love, allowing his incisors to lengthen as he kissed Harry's forehead, nose, lips, and neck. "For so long, Harry," he said, kissing his collarbone and moving back up to his lips, grazing them gently, his touch feather-light, "for so long to have had my lifemate across from me." Draco lifted his head to look down at Harry's blushing face once more, at the way his emerald eyes completely surrendered to him and wanted to trust him, to believe in him. Draco felt his breath hitch. He was deeply touched. "I claim you as my lifemate," he whispered, rubbing their noses together as he slowly moved, rocking him slightly with only added pressure that almost showed no true difference until he became more persistent. "I belong to you."

Harry felt something within him tremor, as if something had been set off, slowly ticking away for the right moment to appear.

"I offer my life for you. I give you my protection, my allegiance, my heart, my soul and my body. I take into my keeping the same that is yours."

His eyesight wavered, swirled around him in multiple colors. A true change was undergoing within him and he couldn't control it. A part of him was feeling sealed, but to have only another split in two. He didn't understand, but as Draco went even deeper within him, Harry could do little more but moan in pleasure as their bodies pulsed in a rapid moving exotic and seductive twist and dance.

"Your life, happiness and welfare will be cherished and placed above mine for all time. You are my lifemate," he paused and gently let his fangs dig into Harry's lower lip, flicking his tongue out to lick the blood away, "bound to me for all eternity and always in my care."

He felt the sudden release, both did, and leaned in heavily against each other. Harry was tired, but he somehow got his limbs entwined with those of Draco, who lapped at the sweat on his neck and snaked his arms about his slim shoulders. Almost immediately a spark behind his eyelids made Harry go blind as Draco sunk his teeth deep inside his pulse, a blazing fire or ignition of lightning that shook both their worlds at once. Draco drank deeply, savoring the mysterious and exotic taste of Harry's blood, not at all coppery as that of others but with its own unusual sweetness that made him ache for more. He started to move restlessly against him again, feeling the heat gather and throb in his gut and lower.

Harry slumped in his shoulders, his strength fading at the great amount of blood he was losing. His sudden weakness was the only thing that called Draco back to his senses, immediately cursing himself for having been so greedy for his blood. It wasn't his death he was after, yet here he almost was the reason for his early demise. Instantly he slit his wrist, bringing the precious blood to Harry's slack lips. His once rosiness had turned a ghostly pale and Draco feared for both their lives for a moment. Taking his own blood into his mouth, he leaned and nudged Harry's lips open with his own, forcing Harry to drink the vital essence from his lips, making it impossible for him to spit it out.

Harry gagged at the first attempt, the taste so foreign he could do little more but choke. He slowly got used to the taste, but after the third mouth full, Draco had to close his wound and hope that the blood he had given Harry would sustain him until the morrow. He gathered Harry's exhausted form close and cradled him, kissing his forehead and wiping the stray strands of midnight-hair from his pale face. He couldn't blush, wouldn't blush. To blush you needed blood.

Draco feared until Morpheus' lullaby called them to the land of nod.

_'Harry',_ he prayed, _'please be okay.'_

* * *

**A/N:** I had a feeling that if Harry didn't show up soon, I would be digging my early grave. Hey! I even managed to bond them in this little ditty. Aren't you proud? Anyway, school's back in movement, so updates once again every two weeks. _Attempt_ for every two weeks, but anyhoo, review please! And I love all you guys who have such patience with me!

**_Lythtis_**


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